


I Have Wounds (Only You Can Mend)

by tragicama



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abstinence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Seduction, Bucky Barnes Loves His Weighted Blanket, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Bucky Barnes, Emotional Sex, Injury Recovery, M/M, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Married Couple, Married Life, Oral Sex, Overuse of italics, POV Bucky Barnes, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers Feels, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22196284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tragicama/pseuds/tragicama
Summary: Six months into Bucky and Steve’s newly wedded marriage, Bucky breaks two ribs falling from a building with strict instructions to abstain from any sexual intercourse while his chest heals.This sucks.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 10
Kudos: 286





	I Have Wounds (Only You Can Mend)

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes and nuances are mine.
> 
> Title taken from the song "Can't Pretend" by Tom Odell.

The first time he’s waking up, Bucky has no idea where he is. He thinks Steve told him at some point between suiting up on the Quinjet and being dropped into whatever third world country this is, but all he can focus on right now is the burn in his chest and the deep ache in his loins. 

There are a plethora of sounds around him, he realizes, from what he can make out above the high-pitched ringing in his ears. Gunfire; the sound of an ambiguous explosion; the Hulk’s yell from somewhere off beyond the trees; one of Clint’s arrows soaring into a nearby bad-guy; Iron Man’s thrusters booming forwards; and all Bucky can really focus on is the sound of his wheezing lungs trying and failing to gulp in the crisp air around him.

He tries to lift up his head to gauge his surroundings, but his head won’t budge from where it’s lying on the forest floor and he can’t feel his legs.

Bucky tries to take in a lungful of air, but he wheezes and splutters, gasping. 

_Shit_ , he thinks, and the peripherals of his vision begin to blur in his increasing panic. 

The first person that comes into his line of vision is actually Vision himself, his stoic expression conveying a mild look of panic as his hands gently pull and tug on Bucky’s chest. 

“Watch it,” Bucky hisses through his teeth and immediately regrets it. His lungs constrict, and he gasps out harshly in gargled pain. Tears prickle his eyes as he bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from screaming.

“Sergeant Barnes, I need you to stay completely still, sir. You may have punctured a lung,” Vision says calmly as he continues to poke and prod at Bucky’s chest. 

Bucky _does_ scream in aborted agony when Vision lifts up his metal arm to help the air flow through his lungs, and that seems to trigger two things: the ending of the mission by killing the last bad guy, and everyone on the team, including his _husband_ for god’s sake, to crowd around him, all with varying expressions of concern and sympathy. 

The look on Steve’s face, however, is enough to send Bucky into high alert. 

In the time it takes Steve to drop to his knees across from Vision and cradle Bucky’s face in his hands, which takes almost four seconds, Bucky is choking back a sob at the shift it puts on his chest. 

“Bucky, oh my _God_ , are you okay?” Steve is asking, his voice distant to Bucky's ears, muffled by the wind swirling through the trees. 

Steve's looking at him with panicked eyes, hands hovering like he wants to touch Bucky but doesn't know if he should. Bucky takes a deep breath, and his eyes bunch up in pain and he feels a wet groan escape his lips. Steve's eyes pinch together, and he looks at Bucky with the most sorrowful look Bucky's ever seen, like he’s already dead, and there’s no denying Bucky feels it. But Bucky hates that spark of pity in Steve’s blue eyes, has hated it ever since he woke up from the mind control and brainwashing all those years ago, and that’s not a look his husband should ever give him - not after all they’ve been through. 

“M’fine, Stevie,” Bucky wheezes, trying to lift his flesh arm up to cup Steve’s face to reassure him, anything he can do to wipe that look off of Steve’s face. 

The motion proves unwise as another choked off cry rips itself past Bucky’s lips, and Steve’s answering panic and choked off “Bucky, baby, stay still - “ is enough for Bucky to really realize the level of deep shit he’s in. 

Steve only uses affectionate nicknames for Bucky when he’s alone with Bucky, when he's feeling especially emotional, or when he's scared. Steve doesn't need to prove his masculinity to Bucky or to any member of the team and doesn't give anyone doubts about how in love they are, but he still thinks there should be a line between his personal and professional life, which includes how the rest of the team see him, even though he's close to each of them, and how the media showcase he and Bucky's marriage. He's affectionate with Bucky no matter where they are, but he prefers to keep their marriage sacred, something the public doesn't completely have access to. It's never bothered Bucky, even though Bucky himself doesn't share Steve's reservations and is often times overtly affectionate no matter the circumstance.

Regardless of Steve's normal tendencies and preferences aside, Steve's use of an affectionate nickname now has Bucky's heart seizing in his chest. 

“We need to get him medical attention,” Bucky can hear someone say, but he’s not sure if it’s from Wanda or Natasha from somewhere behind Steve’s back.

“We can't move him,” Steve hisses, half turned to probably glare at the person. 

“Captain, his pulse is slowing, and I believe he's not receiving enough oxygen,” Vision again says calmly, shifting Bucky’s arm again. 

The motion causes another howl of pain deep in Bucky’s throat. 

“Vision, stop moving him, man, you’re hurting him!” Bucky can hear Sam say somewhere behind Steve's left.

Steve is yelling indistinctly above him, but Bucky can't focus his senses enough to understand what he's saying. He looks up through his glistening lashes to see Steve’s glare turned on Vision. 

“FRIDAY, assess Barnes’s injuries,” Stark says suddenly, appearing directly behind Bucky’s head. 

“Sergeant Barnes seems to possess two completely broken ribs, with one rib puncturing his left lung, and the other floating close to his heart. His left tibia is also broken, and the left fibula is shattered, sir, and it looks to me as if he is also suffering an intracranial hemorrhage,” FRIDAY’s automated voice sounds out to the group at large, and Bucky feels his eyes roll back into his head when a sharp pain has him groaning out another wheeze. 

“Captain, we have to move Sergeant Barnes immediately to receive medical attention, or he could potentially endure a stroke or possess permanent brain damage.” 

Bucky wants to strangle Vision for the way Steve’s entire face falls and he pales at the carefully construed words. 

“Stevie, baby. . .I’m fine,” Bucky slurs, drawling out the ‘i.’

To prove his point, Bucky tries to move again, because dammit, he did not survive all of this torment for the past seventy years to die of whatever it is that caused him to be injured like this, and _woah_ , since when did Steve change up the Captain America suit? It’s really doing wonders for his ass.

The movement of trying to sit up effectively shifts his chest again, and Bucky cries out in pain as his breath is suddenly cut off and his lungs desperately try to take in air, and oh God, he can’t breathe - 

But Steve is pushing him back down, ripping a knife from the belt around his waist, but then the knife disappears and Bucky’s vision really _is_ going blurry - wasn’t Steve’s face a lot more clearer than that? - and then pain erupts in his chest again, and he knows he’s screaming and fuck, he hopes Steve still think’s he’s a man after this girly ordeal. But then air is in his lungs and wow, Steve really is amazing, making his lungs breathe for him again, and fuck, his husband is literally the best and Bucky doesn’t know what he did to ever deserve a man like Steve fucking Rogers - wait, no - Barnes, and fuck yeah he’s definitely the best thing in Bucky’s life - 

And, suddenly, the last thing Bucky sees before he drifts into unconsciousness is an oxygen mask being lowered onto his face and Steve’s angelic eyes. 

-

Bucky wakes to being lifted out of a stretcher, still doesn’t know where he is, and promptly panics when he doesn’t see anyone he recognizes. Even after all these years, he still doesn’t take too well to strangers, especially when he doesn’t have Steve around to anchor him.

“Sir, please calm down - “ 

“Someone restrain him!” 

“Hey, hey, hey - “

“He’s going to dislodge his breathing tube, someone help - “ 

“Stop moving!” 

“Bucky, baby, I’m right here, sweetheart. You’re okay,” The last voice has him completely still, and Bucky immediately knows that it’s Steve. The raw emotion in his voice, like he’s been crying or at the least is very upset, has Bucky ready to climb off the stretcher and comfort his obviously distressed husband. 

He can’t move his neck or head around at all, and he thinks that there is obviously a fat neck brace around him to stop him from moving his head, and the thought does nothing to settle him down. 

Someone is sticking him with an IV needle in his flesh arm, while someone else is slipping something around his right wrist, and Bucky can feel the plush underside of a cotton restraint tightening around his mid radius before he completely can’t move his right arm. He immediately lunges forward, only to feel his chest constrict in the worse pain he thinks he’s ever felt, and tears swell in his eyes.

He's _never_ been able to handle restraints. 

“Don’t restrain him! Just - don’t!” Bucky appreciates, not for the first time, how well Steve understands him, knowing well enough how Bucky feels about restraints without ever actually being told. 

Bucky tries to form words, but his throat is raw and there's a tube shoved down his throat, and all he wants to do is find Steve, to look at him. He’s thrashing where he lays, another restraint being placed around his metal wrist and tightening, and stops to think _really?_ for a split second before he’s tearing his metal arm out of the restraint before anyone can blink. 

“Buck, it’s alright, sweetheart. Please stay still, the doctors are only trying to help, baby. Please let them,” he hears Steve croak from somewhere on the left side of him, and he’s quickly becoming enraged at not being able to see Steve, especially when he still sounds like he's choking back tears, always trying to be the one to keep calm and level-headed.

The entire team knows Bucky absolutely loses all rational thought when he thinks Steve is upset or when he cries. Bucky will do anything to make sure Steve is happy, safe, and healthy. 

And with the way he sounds now, his voice raspy and laden with anguish, Bucky's seconds away from climbing up and off this goddamn stretcher or whatever the _fuck_ they've still got his arm restrained to if whoever is holding him down does not let him see Steve _right the fuck now_. 

“You don’t need to restrain him!” Steve tries again, to no avail as another medical official joins the one in trying to hold Bucky down. 

“Excuse me, Captain, but I’m going to need you to step out,” A very annoyed voice says, and even through the harsh, fast-paced movement of the medical staff around him, Bucky can hear Steve suck in a breath.

“I’m not leaving him,” Steve says, and Bucky knows that's his authoritative, I _'m Captain America and you need to listen to me_ voice. Steve's not going to budge an inch.

“My team and I need to work quickly to stop his brain from hemorrhaging further and to repair his punctured lung, Mr. Rogers, and we can’t do that with you in here," The voice replies, tense and carefully enunciated, as if Steve is a child who needed to be scolded on what he's done wrong. "We don’t work well with frazzled spouses in our operating room, when we're trying to perform _life-saving surgery_ , Captain.”

“He’s my husband, doctor, and he could’ve. . . “ _died_ , Bucky fills in, feeling his heart sink at the despair in Steve’s voice, and Bucky _still_ can’t see him from where he’s still trapped staring at the ceiling. “Please, I won’t interrupt, just let me stay.” 

It’s quiet in the room again, and Bucky still hasn’t stopped thrashing, before the doctor replies, “Okay, Captain, but if you start panicking too much or you become a distraction, you’re _gone_ , got it?” 

“Yes, sir,” Steve replies, and then suddenly he comes into Bucky’s vision, and the tears that have been welling in Bucky’s eyes fall. 

He’s not sure if he’s crying from the pain, or from the relief he feels at taking in Steve’s seemingly unscathed form, save for Steve's own wet eyes.

Bucky can’t move his right arm at all, but the metal one rushes to Steve’s face as Steve brushes a few of his tears away, and Bucky feels Steve relax against his metal palm as Steve’s other hand comes to rest on top of Bucky’s metal one. 

“We’re going to begin now, sir, but you'll need to change into scrubs for the duration of the surgery,” A female voice says, but Bucky can’t take his eyes away from Steve to acknowledge her. 

And for the second time, Bucky thinks, as his arm falls from Steve’s face, he slips back into unconsciousness staring up into Steve’s glistening blue eyes. 

-

The next time Bucky wakes up, he knows almost immediately that he’s either in a hospital or a sick bay. There’s a rhythmic beeping coming from his left, the smell of antiseptic in his nose, and the warmth of a familiar weight in Bucky's right hand. 

Bucky knows Steve is sitting at the side of his bed even before he opens his eyes. Years of feeling Steve’s constant presence has seen to it that _of course_ Steve would be here for him at a time like this, only to see him nestled right up against Bucky’s flesh arm holding onto him like he’s scared Bucky might disappear if he lets go. Nothing could tear Steve away from Bucky's side.

He takes a second to gauge himself, looks down at his chest to see white gauze wrapped around his upper torso, leaving more than half of his pale skin covered up while his remaining abs are on display in the cool hospital air. There are burns and bruises littering his entire body, with a particularly nasty bruise on his upper right shoulder, and a bandage covering what Bucky can only assume is a knife wound on the thigh of his right leg. His left leg seems to be held in a brace and elevated to keep his blood flowing, but Bucky thinks he can feel it resetting and realigning together to heal what was broken. 

The same can’t be said for his chest, and a deep breath causes him to wheeze and cough at the feeling of residual tightness in his lungs. 

Steve jostles then, waking up stiffly to the sound of Bucky’s rasping. He stands up quickly, brandishing a cup of water with a bendy straw right in front of Bucky’s suddenly parched mouth. 

He takes a long sip of water before smiling up at his husband, “Hey, Stevie.”

Steve’s eyes are full of unshed tears as he looks down into Bucky’s grey blue eyes, “Hi, Buck.”

Bucky breaks out into a large grin, the movement causing him to shift the small oxygen tubes even further up his nose. He groans lightly and brings his left hand up to remove it from his face. 

“No, no, Buck, you’ve got to leave it on. They only just took the breathing tube out of your mouth, and you have to leave the oxygen on until your respiratory levels go up,” Steve rushes to say, putting the tubes back to resting in Bucky’s nose, no doubt repeating what some doctor had told him before Bucky had woken up.

Bucky groans, and wheezes out, “S’that why my throat’s all raspy? I shouldn’t have needed a breathing tube anyway, Stevie.”

Steve sighs and nods, “I know, Buck. But you took quite a tumble there. Your leg is all but healed, but your lungs and your head . . .” 

Steve looks down then, hand coming up to pinch at his nose as he sighs again. He looks like he’s steadying himself, uncertain on how to proceed. 

“Hey,” Bucky says, bringing Steve’s attention back to himself, “how bad is it?”

“You fell from a fifty-foot building.”

“I figured, you know, what with the respiratory problems and all,” Bucky says in his raspy voice, smirking a little, hoping to get Steve to crack a smile at him, anything to get that haunted look off his face.

Steve has the complete opposite reaction. “You could have died, Bucky!” He shouts, and then drops into the chair he was previously sitting in, right next to Bucky’s hospital bed, head in his hands with his shoulders shaking. Bucky notices for the first time that Steve hasn’t stopped shaking once since he woke up just a few moments ago.

“Stevie. . .“ Bucky says, trying to sit up, but the pain in his chest stops him, and he groans a little. Steve shoots up at that, laying a steadying hand on Bucky’s shoulder and pushing him back into the bed, but takes the remote for the bed and proceeds to push the button to lift it up so Bucky can sit up straighter. 

Steve then sits down on the edge of the bed, and Bucky reaches his metal arm out to pull Steve’s face towards him. 

“I’m sorry, Stevie,” He mumbles, and Steve scoots closer so Bucky doesn’t have too. Bucky doesn’t know who moves first, but then Steve’s amazing lips are being pressed against his, and everything feels right in the world. 

Steve breaks the kiss sooner than he normally would, but Bucky chops it up to him being injured. 

“Watching you fall like that. . .” Steve whispers from where he’s leaned his forehead up against Bucky’s, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb over Bucky’s left cheekbone, and his eyes are glassy. He inhales shakily before continuing, "You were fighting someone on the roof, and they’d stabbed you in the thigh, and you’d stepped back to pull it out, but the guy punched you before you could regain your balance, and you fell.” A sharp exhale, and then, "It’s like I was watching you fall into the mountains again from Zola’s train. And in that emergency room - seeing you pass in and out of consciousness. . . I thought I’d lost you, Buck. In that moment, all I could do was watch you slip away. And I couldn’t do anything to stop it, or to save you.” 

“Baby, I’m alright, and I'm safe with you now. This isn’t your fault, Stevie,” Bucky whispers back, the metal hand coming to rest against the nape of Steve’s neck. He needs Steve to understand this, to know that the fight isn’t always going to end well. They’ve discussed how useless Steve felt back when Bucky fell off the train, and how much it hurt for him to grieve, but Bucky needs Steve to understand how this is different now. 

"I'm not trying to be selfish, or anythin' like that, but I love you, sweetheart, and I'd fall apart if I lost you," Steve mutters, Brooklyn accent thick in his sad tenor, and Bucky sees a single tear slip down his cheek.

"I love you, too, Stevie. Until the end of the line," Bucky replies, wiping Steve's tear and smiling softly at the use of their shared private sentiment to each other, like he always does when either he or Steve echo this silent promise to the other. 

Steve takes a deep breath, but he nods from where he’s pressed into his husband, “Please don't scare me like that again, Buck."

“I won’t, baby,” Bucky replies, knowing that the promise is somewhat useless, but he promises anyway. Promises are everything to Steve, and Bucky works everyday to uphold them. It's inevitable in this line of work that one of them is bound to get seriously injured again in the near future, but both he and Steve are needing a little extra reassurance, and Bucky is more than happy to provide it. 

After a beat of silence, and sitting like that for a moment, foreheads resting against each other, Bucky looks down at Steve - doesn’t see the Captain America suit Steve was previously in before Bucky lost consciousness again - and wheezes, “What the hell are you wearin', sweetheart?”

Steve pulls back a little and releases a small chuckle, looking down at himself, “I was in surgery with you, Buck. I held your hand while they operated on you. And this is what they made me wear.”

Bucky gets an adorably confused look on his face and says, “Surgery?”

“Yes, surgery,” A voice says, interrupting before Steve has a chance to respond. Bucky and Steve both look towards the owner of the voice, and find a stern looking man branding a SHIELD logo on his lab coat. "Your fall in Kinshasa in the Democratic Republic of the Congo caused your left rib to puncture your left lung, effectively lowering your respiratory levels and causing your body to go into premature shock, which affected the beating of your heart. Your right rib is also broken, which explains the increased amount of pain you feel. You broke your left tibia and fibula, although your enhanced abilities from the serum are healing that injury quite quickly. Your brain hemorrhage wasn’t as bad as we feared, and the serum is actually taking care of that injury as well.” 

Bucky and Steve look at each other, both displaying matching expressions of shock and confusion. 

“Sorry, I suppose I should introduce myself,” The doctor says, moving forward to shake Steve’s hand, and then Bucky’s. “I am Dr. Hans Arden. I was the surgeon who operated on you.”

“You’re the one who tried to kick me out of the operating room,” Steve surmises, his jaw hardening. 

“Yes,” Dr. Arden says, looking the epitome of unapologetic and stern. "How are you feeling, Sergeant Barnes?"

“Great," Bucky wheezes, "Why didn’t I remember any of that?” Steve sits in the chair again, taking Bucky’s flesh hand. 

“Your body was going through a shocking trauma, so it’s not unusual that you don’t remember going into surgery. Your brain scans don’t indicate any type of amnesia or long-lasting brain damage. However, the serum isn’t healing your chest injury,” The doctor responds, moving to the end of Bucky’s hospital bed and picking up his medical chart. 

“So if the serum is healing my other injuries, why isn’t my chest back to normal?” Bucky rasps, absorbing all of this new information. 

“I believe it has something to do with the effects of the serum. It's true that it works to keep you from developing sicknesses and diseases, and heals your body, but there is still a lot we don’t know about the version of the serum you received, so my expertise on the matter is as good as yours.” 

Steve balks at that, “So, what? Does that mean that his chest is going to heal on its own? Like, _regularly_?”

“From what we can tell, yes,” Dr. Arden says, and Bucky thinks that if he thought he could get away with shrugging his shoulders, he would. 

“How long will that take?” Bucky asks, gently rubbing Steve’s wrist with his thumb. 

"It takes about six weeks. During this time, you should avoid activities that could further injure your ribs. That means sports and heavy lifting are off the table,” The doctor smirks, and Bucky rolls his eyes. “This also means no missions, either.”

“So I’m benched?” Bucky sighs.

“Until I am inclined to believe you have properly healed from the extent of your injuries, yes. I have strict orders from Director Fury to, under no circumstances, sign off on you returning to duty until the six weeks have passed,” Dr. Arden replies, and Bucky just wants to slap the smirk right off his face. 

“Fucking Fury,” he mutters, running his metal hand through his unruly short hair and sighing again, loudly. 

“You drive a motorcycle, don’t you, Sergeant Barnes?” 

“What does that have to do with my broken ribs?” Bucky mutters, his metal fingers resting on the bridge of his nose as he tries to hold back another sigh. 

But Dr. Arden just turns to Steve, not even slightly deterred by Bucky’s indignation, says, “He’s not allowed to ride his motorcycle at all, Captain, or any heavy machinery, for that matter. Due to the extent of his injuries, operating a heavy motorcycle or machine could result in severe damage in his cartilage.”

Steve gulps, and tightens his hand around Bucky’s flesh one, and just mutters, “Got it. He won’t be riding his bike.” 

Bucky releases another sigh, because what the fuck is he even supposed to do at all these next six weeks? The missions he and Steve have been deployed on have kept him busy for the past year, and the only break he got from them was for he and Steve’s wedding and honeymoon. He will never know what it’s like to be without Steve, doesn’t want to know, and spending time together with his husband is easily the best thing in the world Bucky likes to do, but he doesn’t know what it’s like to not have a mission ready for them after they leave their bubble, so wrapped up in each other they forget to slow down and enjoy the small breaks sometimes. 

At least he’ll have Steve there with him back at their apartment at the Avengers compound, saving him from boredom by trying to mother hen him and take care of him, and, they’ll be alone practically all the time now (and have _privacy_ holy shit) which hasn’t been the case at all since their honeymoon ended almost five and a half months ago, and yes, he and Steve will be able to finally take their time like they don’t get the luxury of doing most nights anymore. Quickies are great, and he never gets tired of christening new places everywhere he and Steve go, but it’s not the same as being able to really thrust into his husband and bite into his skin so he’s marked with Bucky’s unyielding love, and staring into those lust blown pupils while Steve brokenly gasps his name. Between the constant missions, Bucky really hasn’t gotten to take Steve apart and put him back together again for nearly a month, and _God_ but does he miss those nights where they could just be wrapped up in each other and be together without the worry about being interrupted, or waiting for Steve’s serum to kick in his healing after he’d broken his arm on that mission two weeks ago - 

Then a thought occurs to him.

“What about sex?” Bucky asks, jolting upright, completely serious. The movement pulls at his chest again, and he can’t help but to release a groan of pain. The doctor stares at him pointedly, as if to say _that’s exactly my point_ and all Bucky can do to stop himself from outright growling is be drawn back by the sound of his husband’s embarrassing shock. 

“Bucky!” Steve splutters, his cheeks staining red. Bucky just shrugs, and rubs Steve’s hand again. 

“What, Stevie? That’s important to know!” Bucky wheezes out, smirking lightly. With the amount of sex the two of them have, it’s incredibly important. Also, they’re a newly married couple, so it’s not like anyone’s wondering what they get up to when they’re alone. They’re always so wrapped up in each other when they're alone, preferring to be in each other’s space rather than ever being apart, and all anyone needs to do is just simply take in the way Bucky looks at Steve (pupils dilated, mouth slightly bowed, refusing to take his eyes off his husband as if he might blink and Steve would disappear right in front of him), or the way Steve looks at Bucky, (pupils also dilated, a flush disappearing down his neck, and stars in his eyes like Bucky hung the goddamn moon just for Steve to look at every night) to know that the second they’re alone, hands are all over the other’s body, lips are biting at hard and soft places, and then it’s game over. 

Besides, Bucky can’t be the only one to notice how incredibly fucking hot his husband is, right? 

So, yeah, going without sex for six weeks is going to be fucking torture. 

“No sexual intercourse, including anal sex, oral sex, and anything in-between is allowed during the healing process. Any unnecessary pressure could jostle your ribcage and inflict further damage.”

“So no sex?” 

“No. Sex,” Dr. Arden enunciates, looking sternly between both Steve and Bucky. Steve has the decency to cower slightly under the trepidation, but Bucky just blinks, glaring.

“How long does he need to stay here?” Steve asks, switching the subject.

“We’re going to keep Sergeant Barnes overnight for observation to ensure that his brain is healing correctly. With the rate the serum is healing his brain and leg, though, he should be fine for you to take him home tomorrow afternoon,” Dr. Arden says, and Bucky still hasn’t stopped glaring at him, like the doctor is personally responsible for all the bad things Bucky’s had to endure in his entire life.

“Thank you, doctor,” Steve replies, and moves towards Bucky to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Without another word, Dr. Arden walks out of the room, closing the door harshly as he scurries along. 

Steve blows out a puff of air, “Well he’s just a ray of sunshine, isn’t he?”

Bucky looks up at him, eyes wide with a disbelieving twinkle in his eyes, “No sex?”

That gets Steve to chuckle lightly, “Those are the doctor’s orders, Buck, and you’re not going to do anything reckless so that you end up injuring yourself further.”

Bucky slyly says, “Oh please, fucking my _husband_ into the mattress until he’s screaming is every bit of intentional, sweetheart,” but figures it looses the intended affect when he coughs and wheezes. He groans when the reality of his situation fully hits him again, “But not for six weeks?”

Steve blushes deeply at Bucky’s words, but smiles at him comfortingly through his embarrassed reply, "It’s not like we’ve never had to abstain before, sweetheart.” 

A dark look settles over Bucky’s features, and the small smile Steve was giving him completely vanishes, “Yeah, well, this isn’t 1937 anymore, Steve. I don’t have to hide how I feel about you now. All that time we could’ve been together, we weren’t, but now we’re making up for all that lost time. And I fucking married you, pal, so I’d say I’m allowed to be a little upset about the prospect of not making love with my husband for six weeks.” 

Steve heaves a displeased sigh, but there’s a glimmer of understanding in his blue eyes, “I’m not thrilled about it either, Bucky, but nothing is worth seeing you in pain like that again.”

All the fight just leaves his body then, and Bucky feels the gnawing of exhaustion start to creep into his bones as he scoffs, “You’re such a sap, Rogers.”

Steve’s gaze doesn’t leave Bucky’s as he runs the back of his knuckles against Bucky’s cheek, his wedding band a nice source of coolness against Bucky’s constant overheated skin, and says teasingly, “Hey, it’s Barnes now."

And hearing Steve say that never fails to send a wave of heat right to Bucky’s dick. Because yeah, it _is_ Barnes now, and just the thought of that alone, that this man is his _forever_ , is enough to make Bucky a little lightheaded. 

But acting on it would undoubtedly not be wise (what with the no sex for six weeks thing), so Bucky just smiles up at Steve like he always does when Steve reminds Bucky of their shared last name, and gestures with his metal arm for Steve to lean down. Steve does, and Bucky wraps his hand around the hideous blue scrubs Steve is still wearing and pulls him slightly to meet his lips and, as always when Bucky kisses Steve, the entire world melts away. Bucky blocks out the pain in his chest and the news that he won’t be doing anything but resting for the next six weeks, and just lets them both have this moment, reassuring the both of them that the other is safe and alive. 

-

At some point, Steve pulls away sooner than Bucky would have appreciated, and proceeds to sit down on Bucky's bed, and tells him how he had to use his knowledge of anatomy to perform an emergency field thoracotomy on Bucky back in the Congo on the forest floor with his pick knife. Bucky laughs at that, and Steve tells him that if he hadn’t just gone through a significant trauma, he’s be smacking him right upside the head. 

A nurse comes in some time later, already reminding them that visiting hours ended two hours ago, takes one look at their entwined hands, hushed whispers, and lack of personal space, and promptly blushes before offering to bring Steve a cot so he can sleep near Bucky for the night. 

The cot she brings looks about as comfortable as a bed of nails, and Bucky knows his hospital bed is definitely not as comfortable as the king size he shares with Steve back at their apartment, but one look at the raggedy springs and he’s offering to share his small hospital bed with Steve. But his husband is having none of that, and goes on for at least seven minutes about not wanting to accidentally jostle Bucky’s ribcage, or accidentally crush his still healing leg in his sleep. 

Bucky’s heart swoops at Steve’s sincerity, but it quickly turns into a pulse-racing fluttering when he realizes that Steve is stripping out of his hideous scrubs after he's reassured by the nurse that Bucky will be left alone for a couple of hours. 

“That’s totally not fair, Steve,” Bucky whines, throwing his head back in frustration. The motion pulls at his chest, and he whines again, only this time it’s laced with pain instead of petulance. 

Steve looks at him, his discarded scrub shirt scrunched in his hand, and a look of confusion marring his beautiful face. Bucky knows this isn’t any different to how Steve normally prepares for bed, ridding himself of his clothes so he can change into the gray sweatpants that Bucky has openly admitted to worshipping because they do wonders for Steve’s ass - the ones Steve always wears to sleep in, climbing up into their bed without a shirt to snuggle up right into Bucky’s waiting arms like clockwork. But, fuck, they're in a hospital for God’s sake, and getting hard at seeing his husband look so beautiful even when he’s just getting ready for bed is really not what Bucky needs when he was told not three hours ago to abstain from worshipping that gorgeous body for six weeks.

“What’s not fair?” Steve asks, tossing the shirt to the side and crossing his arms over his chest, amused. The movement only draws Bucky’s attention to his muscular arms, and that’s really not what he needs right now. 

“You can’t sleep like that, Stevie,” Bucky tries again, when Steve looks like he’s about to chalk up Bucky’s spout of fairness to the pain medication currently pumping through his veins. 

Bucky sees it the moment Steve gets it, “Oh - Bucky, no. I’m changing into my sweats. We’re in a hospital!” 

“Exactly! I don’t need that nurse to come back later and catch an eyeful of you spread out without a shirt on. You,” he points, “are for my eyes only,” Bucky winks, and the flush he’s rewarded with that spreads down Steve’s chest, like always when Bucky says anything about how much he appreciates Steve’s body, is worth the surge of arousal Bucky feels when he watches that flush spread down Steve’s neck.

Bucky’s brain catches up with him then and he rasps, “Wait - sweats?” 

“Yeah. When you were still asleep from your surgery, I asked Natasha to bring a couple of things from the apartment because there was no way I was going to leave you here alone and without me tonight,” Steve says, and pulls a gray duffel bag out from underneath the chair he’s been sitting in the majority of the day. 

“How long was the surgery?”

Steve shrugs, “Eight hours, I think.”

Bucky feels his eyes widen, “And you stayed in with me and held my hand the _entire_ time? That’s a long time, baby.”

Steve gives him a look of disbelief, “Yeah, of course, I did. With the exception of giving the team a few updates on you. I wasn’t going to just leave you.”

Bucky’s heart swells in adoration, but Steve’s hands travel to the waistband of his scrub pants, and he’s backtracking hastily.

“Can you finish changing in the bathroom, please?” Bucky asks, and he can see Steve’s face scrunch up a little. He rushes to explain, “It’s not you, Stevie, I promise, I just can’t handle you stripping in front of me right now, baby.” 

Steve’s expression floods with understanding then, and Bucky knows that Steve understands what he was getting at. Bucky might not have a problem with where an ensuing strip down might lead to, but it would greatly upset Steve if Bucky were to get up when he's still wheezing and hurts too much to help his husband get out of his pants, and the last thing Bucky ever wants is for Steve to be upset with him, so - compromise. 

“Of course, Buck,” Steve says, and then he’s taking the duffel bag and the discarded scrub shirt with him into the en-suite bathroom with a small smile directed at Bucky before closing the door behind him.

When he emerges, he’s wearing a tight white t-shirt and those same gray sweatpants, and Bucky releases another small whine. It’s going to be a long time before he ever gets to feel that body again, gets to make his husband scream out in pleasure and groan while Bucky’s buried deep inside his tight heat - 

“It’s time to go to bed, Buck,” Steve is saying, yanking Bucky out of his train of thought. 

Bucky smirks, and says, “What about a goodnight kiss?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but indulges Bucky anyway, placing a deep, passionate kiss on his lips before murmuring, “Goodnight, Buck,” against his mouth. 

Steve snuggles into the cot, trying desperately to get comfortable, and hears his husband rasp, “G’night, sweetheart.” 

Bucky lays flat against the hospital bed, holds up the blanket, and glances at his half-hard dick tenting his hospital gown. Bucky blows out a puff of air and thinks, _It’s going to be a long six weeks,_ before sighing.

Steve’s answering chuckle lulls him to sleep a moment later. 

-

“This is why we can’t have nice things.”

“Tony!”

“Don’t be a dick, Stark.” 

“Yeah, he looks like he’s in pain.”

“Poor James.”

“He just sounds so raspy - “

“Barnes is strong, Steve, he’ll be back to kicking ass in no time - “

“And defiling _your_ ass in no time too, I’ll bet, Captain _Barnes_ \- “ 

“ _Tony!”_

Bucky wakes at the rumbling of voices. He groans half-heartedly, but he’s not really in all that much pain, save for the pressure in his chest. Taking a deep breath doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, but he still feels the residual sharp pain in his chest that makes him want to not move. 

He opens his eyes fully only for them to widen suspiciously when he notices half the team of Avengers clambered into his tiny SHIELD hospital room, over-sized bunch and all. 

“Why are you all here?” Bucky says, trying to sound put-on but there isn’t really any heat behind it. He’s grown to semi-like every member of the team, and since he himself is an Avenger now, he figures checking up on a fallen teammate comes with the territory, even if that teammate is an ex-HYDRA assassin.

His leg, he notices, is no longer bandaged, and is not elevated anymore. His bare foot is just resting there from its place underneath the hard cotton of the hospital blanket, and it scratches annoyingly against newly healed flesh. 

Bucky feels like punching a wall, but he’s pretty sure the movement on his chest from the impact would surely jostle his ribcage. 

He wishes his ribs could have healed just as fast as his leg did.

“How are you feeling, James?” Natasha says from her place where she’s leaning up against Steve’s tall frame, one arm perched on his shoulder while the other rests on her hip.

“Peachy keen, doll face,” comes the raspy reply, and every one lets out a collective snicker. 

“When are they letting you out of here, Barnes?” Wilson asks then, from his place against the wall in the corner, and Bucky tries to look past Stark’s shoulder to catch his gaze.

Bucky snorts, “Soon, I hope. This bed is about as comfortable as that steel death trap inside the cryostasis tube.”

Clint, from his place beside Natasha, takes it as the joke that it is, and a few others scoff lightly at his antics, but Bucky notices how Steve gets a pinched look between his eyes, the same look he always gets when Bucky talks about his time as HYDRA’s mindless assassin.

“He gets out this afternoon, in about an hour,” Steve supplies, turning in Wilson’s direction to correctly answer his question. 

Clint grunts, “Well lemme know when you get bored on your time off, dude. I’ll come over and kick your ass at Call of Duty.”

Bucky scoffs, “You wish, bird-for-brains. Enhanced reflexes, remember? I outshoot you every time.”

Clint just rolls his eyes, taking a swig of orange juice he pulls out of thin air. 

Stark blows out a puff of air, “Good to see your still kickin,’ Robo-Cop. When you’re feeling up to it and not like your chest is on fire, come down to the lab so I can show you the specs for your arm that we talked about. Y’know, since you’ve got a lot of free time on your hands, now.”

Steve’s eyes narrow, says disapprovingly, “Tony - “ before Stark cuts him off again.

“Calm down there, Capsicle, didn’t mean it the way you’re thinkin.’” 

It’s Steve’s turn to roll his eyes now, huffing as he crosses his muscular arms over his equally muscled chest. Bucky eyes the way the fabric of his t-shirt bunches around the strain of his biceps. 

He takes a moment to look around then, sees the cot Steve slept on last night no where in sight, and Steve himself is dressed differently from the sweats he fell asleep in last night, and Bucky remembers Steve’s comment about him being discharged in an hour.

“Man,” Bucky groans, trying to sit up, and wheezes when he can’t, “how long was I out for?”

“Fourteen hours,” Steve replies, gently taking Bucky’s flesh hand in his as he again raises the bed with the remote like he did the day prior. “Your body was exhausted, Buck. And you’re on a lot pain medications.”

Bucky blinks up sleepily at Steve and gives him a grin, “Haven’t felt this kind of deep exhaustion since our wedding night, Stevie,” and adds a wink just to get Steve squirming.

Steve blushes a deep red, smiling down at his and Bucky’s entwined hands, and mutters, “There are others around, Bucky.”

Bucky glances around Steve’s head to slowly take in their friends, and gives them all a loose-lipped smirk, and wheezes, “Like they don’t know what we get up to when we’re alone.”

Natasha huffs, “Like I could ever unhear and unsee all of the acts I have had the immense pleasure to walk in on.”

Bucky gives her a wink, and just stares at Steve’s mortified expression unabashedly.

“Speaking of the Sarge’s and Cap’s _relations_ ,” Stark says, wiggling his eyebrows at Steve, before turning to Bucky, “I take it this injury puts a damper on the fun times?”

Bucky groans, not needing the reminder, and rolls his eyes, “You guessed right, Tin Can. For _six weeks_.” 

Stark and Clint simultaneously inhale deeply in sympathy, and Natasha and Bruce stifle their laughter, while Wilson looks sympathetic, and Steve looks absolutely scandalized at Bucky’s words. 

“There is no way you guys are going to make it six weeks,” Clint says, disbelief in his words. 

“Oh, believe me, with this one here,” Bucky starts, moving he and Steve’s joined hands a little to indicate that he’s talking about Steve, “we may as well declare ourselves celibate.”

Steve scoffs lightly, “Yes, well, I’m not going to apologize for that, Bucky. Nothing is worth causing you pain and could injure you further. Not even - “

“Getting your rocks off?” Stark fills in helpfully with another eyebrow wiggle, but Bucky doesn’t acknowledge him. He’s staring into Steve’s baby blue eyes, his heart contracting tightly in his chest. The love he feels for Steve really is insurmountable. 

“Such a sap,” Bucky replies, smiling warmly at Steve, not caring if his teammates think that he himself is beginning to turn soft. Bucky is cold to everyone but Steve. He may have accepted his role as an Avenger and graciously taken to acting like a member of the team, saving all of their asses just as much as they save his, but that doesn’t mean he completely, one hundred percent, trusts every individual on the team yet. 

Save for Steve, who Bucky has trusted with his life even before he shipped out and off to the front lines a lifetime ago. 

Steve just smiles back at him, running his warm lips over the knuckles of Bucky’s hand still clenched between his own.

“This is all beginning to get too lovey for me,” Stark cuts in, mock glaring at Bucky. “I always thought of you as a deadly assassin who could kill me eighteen different ways in my sleep. Not as a Harlequin romantic. I think I might have just lost _maybe_ twelve percent of my fear of you.”

“Only twelve?” Bucky questions, smirking at Stark as he clenches his metal fist to make it whir menacingly in the almost silent hospital room. 

Stark gulps, “Yeah, okay, never mind. I’m still one hundred percent terrified of you, Barnes,” and promptly turns on his heel and scurries out of the room, with a mock salute aimed towards Steve.

Natasha and Clint laugh, while Bruce just looks every bit the wallflower he is as he sighs, and mutters, “Get well soon, Bucky,” before following after Stark. 

Clint and Natasha turn back around, only to stand up from where they’ve been leaning against various items in Bucky’s hospital room. 

“We’re gonna head out,” Natasha says. “We’ve got another mission starting tomorrow, and we need to go debrief for it. Just wanted to make sure you were alright, James.”

“Thanks, Natasha. Clint.” A pause, and a nudge from Steve. “Good luck on the mission.”

Clint smirks at Bucky’s insincerity, before walking to the other side of Bucky’s bed and giving him a fist bump. 

Once Natasha and Clint are at the door and about to leave, Steve says, “Stay safe, please. And if you need help, don’t hesitate to call.”

Natasha smiles at him, “As if you would leave James’s side at a time like this.” She playfully rolls her eyes, before they soften. “We appreciate the offer.”

“See you on the flip side, sweeties!” Clint says, and both he and Natasha, with Wilson trailing behind with a soft 'goodbye,' disappear through the door.

-

“Man, I ache,” Bucky groans, hand coming to rest on the center of his chest as Steve helps him sit gently on their enormous couch. Bucky can’t hold back the yelp of pain he feels tear from his throat when the angle of Steve’s arm presses against his chest roughly as Bucky falls slightly into the middle of the cushions.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says pitifully, looking at Bucky’s chest with sad eyes. Bucky huffs.

“I’m alright, baby. Just hurts a bit.”

Steve looks at Bucky disbelievingly, “A _bit_? Bucky, you’re still wheezing!” 

Bucky just grunts in response, not knowing how to answer. Admitting to Steve the amount of pain he’s in, worse than he’s felt in a long while, since HYDRA even, isn’t a good option. Steve’s steadfast and reasonable when it comes to anything but Bucky. Telling him how much he hurts will only make his husband even more worried than he already is, and Bucky doesn’t need Steve worrying about him, not when Bucky is perfectly fine and healthy and here with the love of his life.

He can handle a little bit of pain. He’s sure he’s been through worse. 

“What can I do to help you? Do you need more pain medicine?” Steve asks, and Bucky can’t help but smile slightly at the mothering tone of Steve’s voice. 

Steve’s always been this way, even in their apartment in Brooklyn, fretting over Bucky like he himself wasn’t a stone’s throw away from a fever taking him at any given moment. Bucky’s the one that’s supposed to worry about Steve, not the other way around. 

When Bucky doesn't respond, Steve lowers himself so his eyes meet Bucky’s own eye line, and gently asks, “What do you need, Buck?”

“Just you, sweetheart,” Bucky smiles widely at him and raises his right hand to run his thumb across Steve’s cheekbone. “Will you lay here and cuddle with me?” 

Secretly, Steve knows that Bucky loves to cuddle with him, even though he never admits to liking cuddling, or more so, would never admit to calling their cuddling ‘cuddling.’ Bucky’s recovered greatly from his time being held and used against his will by HYDRA, and even though it’s taken him years to get where he is, Bucky is a lot more like the Bucky he used to be back even before the war. But some things still make him highly uncomfortable, like being touched by anyone but Steve without expressive permission, or being left alone for long periods of time, or even being around newer people when Steve’s not with him. 

It’s still hard for him to express his thoughts into words sometimes. He’s quiet and withdrawn some days when he’s around the other Avengers, but he talks to them if they talk to him first. When he first began his recovery, Sam worked with him on articulating his thoughts more clearly, to not be afraid that he’s going to be reprimanded if he politely questions Fury’s orders, or asks Steve for something. That part of their relationship has gotten a lot better, not just Bucky asking for things he wants or needs from Steve in a sexual sense, but also from a relationship standpoint, where he’s not afraid to ask Steve if they can stay in for dinner instead of going out - because he’s reluctant to share Steve with the rest of the world and feels uncomfortable leaving the safety of their apartment sometimes - or if Steve can take time out of his day to go with Bucky to his scheduled appointments with Tony for his arm. 

Bucky only needs to ask, and Steve will give him the world. 

Steve imagines it’s the same for Bucky, too. And Steve knows that Bucky worries about how Steve perceives Bucky’s love for him, because Bucky sometimes forgets to tell Steve how much he means to him like Steve does for Bucky. That part’s changed too, especially since they’re married now, and Steve has trouble getting Bucky to stop shouting how in love he is with Steve from the rooftops on a regular day. Married life really has been blissful.

The good days have all but taken over the bad, with Bucky getting a nightmare maybe three times a month, and he virtually has no bad days anymore. And Steve can appreciate the fact that his husband, if not all completely healed from his brainwashing and brutal past, is stitching the remaining pieces of himself together where he’ll be as good and whole as he can be in no time. 

So, yes, he wouldn’t mind cuddling with his husband, because Bucky’s _asking him_ for it. Even if Bucky will be slightly embarrassed about it when his brain isn’t affected by high doses of painkillers.

“I think you’re still a little loopy from your medication, Buck,” Steve says, smiling, but he nonetheless dutifully moves to sit next to Bucky on the couch, dropping the duffel bag with Bucky’s pain medication, some instruction pamphlets on how to care for broken ribs, and his sweats on the carpet next to couch, before looping his arm carefully abound his husband’s shoulders as so not to jostle him. 

Bucky relaxes into him, closing his eyes as Steve reaches for the remote to their giant flat screen, “No, sir. I’m right here with you, sharp as a knife.”

Steve chuckles, takes in Bucky’s drifting form, and smiles, “Sure you are, Buck. Have any requests for Netflix?”

-

“You have got to be _shitting me_ , Steve.”

Steve stares back, a bashful and apologetic expression on his face as he brings up a hand to rub at the back of his neck, “Buck, I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Bucky looks back at him with a disbelieving glare, “You don’t think sleeping together, in the same bed, is a good idea?”

Steve’s expression shifts further into bashfulness, “No, Buck, what if I accidentally move up to you too close in my sleep and move you around? Or lay on top of your chest like I always do and end up jostling your ribcage? It’s not a good idea.”

“Where the fuck are you gonna sleep, then, Steve? On the couch?”

Steve shrugs, nods solemnly, “Yeah, that was the plan.”

Bucky leans back against the headboard from where he’s propped up against it, legs under their soft duvet while the sheets and Bucky’s weighted blanket pool at his waist. He’s shirtless, always sleeps without a shirt on, like Steve, and Steve can see from where he’s standing at the end of their king size bed the dark purple and blue bruises littering the underside of Bucky’s pecs. It makes Steve’s heart heavy.

Bucky stares at him, flesh flingers idly running along the width of his wedding band on his ring finger, like he always does when he needs something to do with his hands, either out of nerves, boredom, or frustration. 

Judging by the look in Bucky’s eyes, Steve guesses it’s frustration. 

“Steve, we literally woke up from sleeping together on the couch three hours ago,” Bucky says, petulant. He’s not letting Steve out of this without a fight.

He’s not exactly wrong, either. After their impromptu nap on the couch upon Bucky’s discharge from the hospital, they had woken up together, side by side, Bucky’s head resting on Steve’s shoulder and their hands linked together in Bucky’s lap.

After they’d properly woken up, Steve had scrounged together the makings for sandwiches, both of them scarfing down four each and also finishing off a bag of chips. When Bucky had woken, the inhabitants from the pain medicine had worn off, and he was in a great deal of pain, and no longer loopy. Steve had given him more medication from the prescription that was supposed to last him for the rest of the week, but he doubted Bucky would finish it because he hated feeling like he wasn’t in control of his mind, and promptly made their way into their bedroom. 

Steve had walked into their closet, changed into his sweatpants, left off his shirt, helped Bucky change into his own sweatpants, brushed his teeth with Bucky in their enormous bathroom, helped Bucky get into their bed, kissed him goodnight, and turned to walk over to their other closet where they kept their warm blankets. Bucky had looked at him with a confused frown on his face when he noticed that Steve wasn’t crawling into his side of the bed, and asked Steve what he was doing with all of those blankets.

And now here they are.

Steve supposes he could sleep in one of their many guest bedrooms, but sleeping in one of those beds, so near Bucky and yet not in the same room with him, doesn’t sit right with Steve. 

The couch it is then.

“Bucky, I don’t want to hurt you,” Steve pleads, his tone only seconds away from turning to begging.

“Steve, you’re being ridiculous, baby,” Bucky says, and he moves the blankets further down, like he’s going to try to stand up. Probably to argue more. 

Steve is at his side in an instant.

“Bucky, no, don’t try to get up by yourself.”

He maneuvers his husband back into bed, and Bucky huffs.

“So, what? Are you going to sleep on the couch for six weeks?” 

Steve hesitates, doesn’t know how exactly he wants to answer that question, but that’s all Bucky needs. 

His eyes grow wide, and he immediately starts glaring, shaking his head, “ _Fuck no_ , Steve. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” and then he’s somewhat thrashing again, trying to stand up to emphasize his side of the argument. He’s wheezing, though, and Steve begins to panic at the sound.

“Bucky - “

“No! You are not leaving me for six weeks! It’s bad enough that I can’t do anything except fuck off until I’m healed, and now the _one person_ I need to help me stay _sane_ , who I need with me constantly so I don’t feel like a part of me is missing, wants to _leave me_? Fuck. No. You don’t get to leave!” Bucky rasps, and tears begin to prickle in Bucky’s eyes. His wheezing turns to coughing then, and the pressure it puts on his chest has his face twisting up in pain.

Steve knows it’s just Bucky’s medication talking, making him tired, emotional, and loopy, because Bucky would never think that Steve would ever leave him when he needs Steve the most, but goddammit all to hell, this entire idea has completely backfired on him. 

Steve feels like such a fucking asshole, making Bucky cry like this. He never really cries, only begins to when Steve’s involved, but Steve has never caused this much of a negative reaction from Bucky. It makes his heart clench painfully in his chest.

How could his husband ever think Steve would leave him?

Steve knows, because Bucky has told him before, that Bucky’s one and only fear is that he’ll lose Steve. Whether that be on a mission, on accident, or - God forbid - Steve leaving him. Steve has worked incredibly hard to prove to Bucky that he’s not going to leave, and he knows that Bucky believes him with all of his heart, but having Bucky think that Steve would abandon him, even just to sleep in a different room for the night, has Steve feeling like the biggest idiot in the world.

“I’m not leaving you, Buck. I only want to avoid the possibility of you getting injured by me in your sleep. I won’t forgive myself if I hurt you when you’re already hurt, Bucky,” Steve tries to sound reassuring, but his voice is shaking.

Bucky looks up at him, takes a deep breath, and tries to steady himself so the coughing stops. When he looks back at Steve, the tears are gone, but his eyes are watery, “You know I can’t sleep without you, Stevie.”

And _that_ , just that sad, raspy sound of Bucky’s voice, is enough to break Steve’s heart in two.

“God, Bucky, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think - “ Steve starts, shaking his head.

Bucky stops him, wheezes, “It’s okay, Steve. Just, please stay with me. I know you’re trying to do something you think is right, but it’s not. You’re my husband, and I want to sleep in the same bed as you, injured or not.”

How can Steve argue with that? 

This - being married, having Bucky in his bed to wake up to every morning, having someone to come home to and hold when things don’t always go the way as planned, to be so in love with someone it hurts to think about the possibility of anyone else - is still all so new and exciting to Steve. Being reminded that he’s Bucky’s husband never fails to set his heart off fluttering beneath his chest, and the amount of love he feels for this man seeps out of his every pore at just the thought of getting to be near him.

And Steve can never seem to be able to sleep without Bucky anymore, either.

So he helps Bucky reposition so that he’s lying down flat on his back, and Bucky’s breathing heavily by the time Steve crawls over to his side of the bed, wheezing with every inhale and exhale. 

Steve nuzzles closer to Bucky, careful still to maintain his distance, when Bucky gets a conflicted look over his face. 

They normally sleep close enough together that Steve doesn’t know where he begins and Bucky ends, sometimes pulling Bucky close into his chest, or other times being the one to feel Bucky's safe embrace around him. He often times wakes up with Bucky’s arms around him, even if they fall asleep with Steve’s arms around Bucky, or wakes up to find himself nuzzled into Bucky’s chest. 

Tonight, though, Steve doesn’t know where to start. 

Bucky reaches out his hand then, and the still cold metal of his left palm runs soothingly down Steve’s chest. Steve can’t help but to react to Bucky’s touch, will never get used to the loving way Bucky touches him, and glances down through his eyelashes where Bucky is laying on the pillow below where Steve is propped up against the headboard.

Bucky just blinks at him, finds Steve’s right hand in the darkness, and entwines their fingers. Steve can’t help but lift their entwined hands up to his lips, where he gently brushes his warm lips over the cool metal, and Steve will never not be amazed at the sensors in Bucky’s arm that allow Bucky to feel the warmth of his lips as he shivers in response. 

From there, Steve lays down on his side, ever so gently as to not shift his husband around, and moves their entwined hands to Bucky’s lower abdomen, where there are no bruises or scars, just pale, warm flesh and muscle.

This isn’t like anything he’s used to before, just simply holding hands with his husband, but Steve knows he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than here, with Bucky, as they both drift off to a peaceful rest.

-

When Bucky wakes the next morning, the pain hits him hard, and he is reluctant to let out the soft noises of discomfort that he fights to keep in but fails. 

He’s on his back, which isn’t exactly a weird way for him to wake up, but he feels stiff, and he’s got a crick in his neck from laying still for so long during the night.

There’s soft, blond hair blowing softly against his naked shoulder, where Steve is currently resting his head, his hand still entwined together with Bucky’s metal one on Bucky’s abdomen.

Since his time spent recovering from his past trauma, Bucky was always the one to wake up in the morning before Steve. It used to be nightmares that kept him up, feeling the hollowness inside that he now understands is filled with Steve’s loving presence. Steve has only woken a handful of times before Bucky, whether it be to be called in to then again be deployed somewhere on a mission, or roused from sleep by his own nightmares, or simply at random. Most often times, though, Bucky wakes before Steve, just watches him sleep, peaceful and at ease, until he properly wakes. 

Today is one of those days, where he wakes before Steve, admires his husband’s beauty before Steve wakes. 

More times than not, though, when they aren’t being called away on missions, or have no plans for the day, they indulge each other during those few early morning hours where sleep just turns into wakefulness, and the warmth from their combined body heat and warm sheets is enough to spur on the exploration of tender and loving eyes, hands, and lips.

Bucky grows annoyed suddenly. Had he not had this outright _stupid_ injury, his hands would be on Steve’s magnificent body. He’d place gentle kisses on the back of his husband’s neck, soft and light, with just enough pressure to let Steve know how loved he is. He’d wake then, like he always does, and Bucky would run his flesh hand over that muscular chest until he reached Steve’s jaw, where he would pull him in for a passionate kiss that left no question of his intentions.

Bucky groans, shifting his head to the side. Now he’s growing hard. And it’s not like that’s a strenuous task to do when Bucky has Steve for a husband, who is literally a walking Adonis that never fails to make Bucky feel like he’s drowning in his own lust at just the sight of all that muscle. 

Bucky can’t believe he gets to call Steve his forever. 

Steve shifts then, having been roused by Bucky’s own movements or the sounds Bucky hadn’t remembered to make quiet, and blinks sleepily up into Bucky’s eyes. Steve looks so vulnerable in these moments, when he completely lets his guard down and lets Bucky see him as he is - just a man living in the future with the love of his life. 

It makes Bucky’s heart flutter every time Steve sleepily gazes into Bucky’s eyes, and never fails to send a wave of heat to his groin, because Steve is breathtaking like this, and he’s _Bucky’s_ , and honestly the most amazing person Bucky has ever met. 

“Good morning, Buck,” Steve says, and the gravel in his voice sends another fresh wave of heat down Bucky’s spine. 

Everything about Steve has Bucky constantly aching for him. 

Steve sits up then, and stretches to wake up the rest of his body, and Bucky eyes the way his muscles bulge when they're pulled taut against Steve’s skin. Bucky’s mouth goes dry when Steve lets out a soft sigh of pleasure at the stretch.

“What a good morning it is,” Bucky responds, bringing the hand closest to Steve, the metal one, up to run against the smoothness of his torso.

Steve watches Bucky from his space leaning up against the headboard, and crosses his arms over his chest, so Bucky’s forced to move his hand further down, to rub slightly against Steve’s abdomen. 

He settles Bucky with a patient look, “How is your chest feeling, Bucky?” 

Bucky groans again, louder this time, “Like I broke two ribs falling from a fifty foot building.”

Steve face morphs into sadness, “Do you want me to go get you more of your pain medication? And then we can lay here all day and watch crappy TV together?”

Bucky again feels his heart flutter in his chest at the earnest and soft look Steve gives him, like there is no where he’d rather be than with Bucky, until the end of time.

He gives Steve a dopey, warm smile, “Yeah, baby, that sounds like a great plan.”

Steve gives him a matching dopey grin, and then proceeds to help Bucky into the bathroom so they can both brush their teeth, before returning him to his spot on the bed. Steve gives him a soft good morning kiss before he turns towards their bedroom door, and that’s when Bucky catches sight of it.

Steve’s hard, most likely just from waking up with morning wood, and Bucky feels himself grow more annoyed. All Bucky wants to do is reach out and touch, to have Steve’s body flush against his, to make him feel good, but the pain in his chest is enough to make him wheeze slightly at just the thought of moving to catch up with Steve.

These next six weeks are going to be tortuous _-_ Bucky can see it now. 

Bucky spends the rest of the day curled up in bed with Steve, watching various television programs, and drifting in and out of sleep until Steve wakes him up so he can get some food into Bucky, or the pain in his chest flares up again and he needs more medication.

He hasn’t felt this useless in a while, and it’s only the first day of his recovery time.

Steve just dutifully helps Bucky stand up and move throughout their huge apartment, and takes naps with Bucky willingly when Bucky asks, even though he can tell that Steve isn’t tired. 

Which means Steve is just as happy staying in Bucky’s presence as Bucky is, and that thought fills him with affection.

Now, Bucky’s awake and watching a Netflix show, idly glancing at the sketch Steve’s working on from where his sketchbook is propped against his knees on top of the duvet. Steve hasn’t gotten to properly sketch in a while, save for some mindless drawings on his or Bucky’s copies of mission files while suited up on the Quinjet. They’ve been incredibly busy since they got back from their honeymoon - thrown into missions sometimes together and few times separately - and mostly taken up with other meetings, secret reconnaissance missions-that-aren’t-missions, and just not having any real downtime.

Steve hasn’t been able to sketch in his favorite sketchbook - the one Bucky gifted him after he’d admitted to Steve that he wanted to spend the rest of their lives together - for a little more than a month. 

He’s catching up for lost time now, completely engrossed in the way he’s sketching - Bucky’s eyes?

Bucky gives a raspy chuckle, “You drawing me again, Stevie?”

Steve just smiles from where’s he working on the paper, “Yeah, Buck. You’re all I ever draw anymore.”

That gets Bucky smiling dopily, because yeah, he is. He has a nightstand drawer full of pictures of himself that Steve’s given him as proof. 

Bucky thinks he might be a little upset if he ever did see Steve draw someone else now, however slightly, because Steve is so goddamn talented and he’s using that talent to draw _Bucky_ of all things. All that affection and love could go to someone’s head - or, at least, it’s gone slightly to Bucky’s.

“You need me to pose for you?” Bucky asks, and only winces when he moves his head to look at Steve’s with mirth in his eyes.

Steve just shakes his head, fondly eyes Bucky out of the corner of his eye, and says, “No. You’re right where I want you.”

And if _that_ doesn’t send blood rushing straight down to Bucky’s dick - 

Bucky gulps, takes a minute to compose himself, because _shit._ Steve always gets Bucky hard and aching just by his words alone sometimes, however innocuous they are, and fuck but does he _want_ right now. 

These next six weeks are going to be _hell -_ Bucky’s calling it now. 

-

It continues like that for two more weeks. 

Bucky wakes up, tries to convince Steve to shower with him, showers by himself when Steve politely declines, brushes his teeth, sits on the couch waiting for Steve to get back from his run with Wilson, fixes he and Steve lunch and dinner, watches Steve sketch, watches a shit ton of movies and horrible romcoms, falls asleep holding Steve’s hand, and starts the entire day over exactly the same the next day.

Bucky’s getting bored.

The pain in his chest has significantly gone down, and after the fourth day, he’d stopped taking the pain medication. When he found out how loopy and emotional it made him, he swiftly put a stop to taking the pills, much to his husband’s chagrin.

Now, though, two weeks in, a day’s length away from being three weeks into his recovery time, Bucky’s feeling pretty much healed. The pain only slightly starts up when Bucky wakes up in the morning, and that’s only due to the way he’s sleeping at night - flat, on his back - instead of curling his arms around Steve, or being the one who’s curled up in Steve’s arms.

And really, he’s not complaining about the down time. He and Steve haven’t had this much alone time together since their month long honeymoon, when they were too wrapped in each other to notice much of anything else. That aspect of their relationship hasn’t changed, but the boredom of staying in this apartment for another three weeks before he’s allowed on another mission is driving him stir-crazy. 

It’s not that he’s bored in Steve’s company - quite the opposite, honestly. Having this alone time with Steve is a gift Bucky isn’t stupid enough to pass up. The days they spend wrapped around each other watching every movie under the sun, or eating some slightly burnt toast that Steve has made for him, and even just being around Steve fills Bucky with such a sense of adoration and love that he’s reminded all over again of how much he loves Steve.

It’s just - that’s all they do, day in and day out. With the lives they live - constantly at the beck and call of their superiors - their marriage doesn’t make for a life spent going on date nights, or having quiet days in, or even getting to spend more than a few days alone with each other. 

It almost feels like Bucky’s being punished. Being able, and sanctioned by Fury no doubt, to spend _this_ much time with Steve, constantly around him and enveloped by him, while at the same time not being able to just reach out and touch him the way his body craves, is slowly starting to drive Bucky insane. 

The constant cuddling, where Steve wraps his ridiculous arms around Bucky and pulls him in close to his chest, letting Bucky feel that muscular torso through Steve’s shirt and his own against his back, where his hips rest flush on top of Steve’s - letting Bucky feel every _inch_ of him - is enough to have Bucky hard in seconds. 

He’s finicky all the time now. It’s like every little thing Steve does has him hard and aching for him constantly. And it’s not just the cuddling that’s driving Bucky crazy. It’s the way Steve wakes up every morning without fail and kisses Bucky in a good morning kiss like he’s a dying man that will be revitalized with Bucky’s lips. Or the way Steve peels off his sweaty shirt _right in front of Bucky_ when he gets back from his morning runs, giving Bucky one of his blinding smiles before practically stripping right in front of him. (And really, how many miles does Steve _run_? It’s got to be at least fifteen or more, to make his face and neck glisten like that when he walks through the door. Bucky’s mouth waters at the sight every morning.)

Steve eyes him with constant desire, and Bucky honestly thinks Steve may be oblivious to the way he’s looking at him, but it never fails to raise Bucky’s pulse and send heat pooling between his thighs. Every morning, Bucky wakes up from where Steve is only slightly wrapped around him in his sleep - on his side, hand entwined with Bucky’s on Bucky’s abdomen - only to feel Steve’s thick hardness pressing into his hip from where Bucky lays on his back. Bucky’s answering twitch of his dick always has him groaning in want when Steve wakes fully, realizes what his body did during the night, and pulls his hips away sheepishly before offering that earth-shattering kiss to Bucky’s lips. 

Bucky has never felt this sexually frustrated in his life. 

And Steve, bless him, has _got_ to be frustrated, too. 

Bucky can’t remember a time, save for during the war, where they were so close in each other’s proximity - practically in each other’s pockets - and couldn’t act on the tension building between them. Even when they were in war time, Bucky and Steve found time to worship each other’s bodies, away from prying eyes and a looming court martial, if only for minutes instead of hours like they did in their shared Brooklyn apartment. 

This, being with Steve, but not _really_ being with him, is hell. 

And, fuck, Steve is the best husband in the world. He’s kind, gentle, loving, commanding when he needs to be and the sweetest, most thoughtful man when he doesn’t. Bucky will say until the day he dies that he could live a hundred different lifetimes and do a thousand good deeds, and still not be worthy of Steve Barnes. 

And, shit, all Bucky wants to do is drag Steve to their bed and fuck into him until Steve feels in his _bones_ how much Bucky wants and loves him. 

But this entire situation, the not touching, is enough to drive anyone crazy, and Bucky honestly doesn’t know how Steve is holding himself back when Bucky so blatantly isn't.

If Bucky is aching for him in seconds, Steve’s got to be at near constant arousal all the time. Bucky swears the look in Steve’s eyes means he’s about ten seconds away from climbing into Bucky’s lap and impaling himself on Bucky’s dick each time Steve looks at him. Steve’s constantly shifting around from his place on the couch underneath or beside Bucky, readjusting himself every single time he moves. 

Bucky’s not clueless enough to know that Steve gives in to some of the tension when he showers - or to know why he always refuses Bucky’s invitation to shower together - because if Steve gets to have Bucky in that way, do with him what both their bodies ache for, Steve will never stop feeling guilty and shameful for disobeying the doctor’s explicit orders, and those feelings would multiple by a million if Bucky were to end up in pain or injured while they did it. 

Steve was never one to follow the rules, but when it comes to Bucky, Steve will do anything to make sure he’s safe and happy. 

And Bucky gets it, okay? Steve is the most selfless person Bucky has ever met. If he thinks something he does is going to hurt or seriously injure his husband, he’s not going to do it.

Which means this tension that’s building between them? Is going to stay that way until the entirety of the six week recovery is over.

And Bucky is _really_ not handling that well at _all_. 

Bucky’s patience is wearing incredibly thin. That tether that’s holding him back is all but stretched to capacity, and Bucky honestly doesn’t know if he can hold out any longer. 

It gets worse when he catches sight of his husband walking through the door this particular morning.

Steve’s just gotten back from his run with Wilson, sweating in all the right places and only slightly out of breath, and just the sight of him has Bucky stirring in his sweatpants. He’s so wound up these days that it doesn’t take him more than maybe a minute until his blood runs hot and he’s aching between his thighs. 

Bucky’s tether - and self control - simultaneously snap. 

He pounces on Steve the moment Steve gets the door shut and locked.

Just from the way Bucky walks and carries himself, he thinks no one would be able to tell that he was suffering from an injury. His breathing is completely normal now, no wheezing or coughing at all. 

He feels his lungs seize up in his chest, though, when he gets his mouth on Steve’s, but Bucky knows it has nothing to do with his injury.

Steve’s mouth feels electric under his, and Bucky can’t help but let out a small moan at the thrill he feels run down his spine as he backs Steve up against the closed door. 

Bucky can feel the way Steve’s holding back, just from the way he’s kissing Bucky like he’s afraid Bucky will break, like he’s delicate and fragile. The way he grips Bucky’s hips is tight, but he’s not pulling Bucky towards him like he always does, instead just holding him still.

Steve’s trying to hold himself back, and Bucky is not going to let him. 

Bucky’s hands are on both sides of Steve’s face, holding him tenderly as he works to kiss him deeper, harder.

“Please,” Bucky whispers against Steve’s mouth, pulling away slightly to glance in Steve’s eyes. His pupils are dilated, and he’s got a beautiful flush on his cheeks, and he’s panting.

“Buck - “ Steve starts, and then gets that awful apologetic look in his eyes that means he’s going to put a stop to Bucky’s antics. 

Bucky pushes his hips further into Steve’s, moans hotly at the friction, and seals his mouth over Steve’s again. Steve’s answering groan of pleasure sends a flutter through Bucky’s heart.

“Please, baby,” Bucky says again, kissing down Steve’s jaw and further towards his neck, nipping and biting the soft skin beneath his mouth, “don’t push me away.” 

Steve’s hands leave his hips then, start to trail up Bucky's bare sides and all the way up until his hands cover Bucky’s on his own face. It makes Bucky shiver. 

“You’re still healing, Bucky. We can’t - “ And Bucky’s heard enough. He seals his lips against Steve’s pulse point, biting down and working a bruise into the soft patch of skin. The action has Steve cutting off with a moan, and he bites his lip to stop himself from making anymore noises.

Bucky pulls back, but only slightly so that he can place a kiss on Steve’s lips. He bites Steve’s bottom lip for himself, then starts the tedious process of kissing down Steve’s neck and torso while dropping to his knees. 

Steve looks at him, pupils blown wide with lust, and a wrecked moan rips itself from his throat, “Bucky, no, please. You could hurt yourself - “ 

Bucky runs his hands up and above, running underneath Steve’s tight shirt so he can rub at the toned abs underneath, “I want you so bad, Stevie. _Please_ let me make you feel good. It’s all I want, baby, please.”

Steve sucks in a deep breath then, hands coming to grasp the short locks of Bucky’s soft hair. His hands are trembling, and he feels like he’s about to explode.

Steve’s ability to hold himself back is dwindling.

“Buck. . .” Steve trails off, unable to continue through his own panting. Bucky smiles encouragingly at him, and cups Steve’s dick in his hand. God, he’s missed this feeling.

Quickly, he takes the waistband of Steve’s jogging pants and pulls them down his muscular thighs, repeating the action with Steve’s black briefs, and then he’s met with Steve’s gorgeous dick.

Bucky’s mouth waters.

“God, Steve, I’ve missed you so much,” Bucky says, running his metal finger up the underside of Steve’s dick. It has Steve hitching his breath.

“Bucky - “ Steve tries again, and Bucky would worry that Steve would slip into another asthma attack if he didn’t know that the serum healed all of those ailments, judging by the way Steve’s breathing goes sporadic and heady.

“Fuck, baby - “ Bucky starts, but he can’t help himself anymore, and lunges forward to take the head of Steve’s dick into his mouth. He moans in relief when the tip hits the back of his throat.

Steve’s shaking above him, panting as his hands tighten in Bucky’s hair. He moans brokenly every time Bucky sucks a little harder, a little faster, creating that perfect heat around him.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, head thrown back against the door, desperately trying to regain some of his lost self control.

But Bucky’s mouth is like a godsend, working over Steve’s dick like Bucky’s _aching_ for it. His mouth is hot and tight around Steve, and Steve can’t help but to moan brokenly every time Bucky takes him in deeper.

Steve only swears like this when he and Bucky make love. The need to hear Steve swear while Bucky's working him over with his mouth or fucking into him spurs him on until Steve's moaning out profanities and Bucky's name as a sign of how good Bucky makes him feel. It drives Bucky absolutely _wild_. 

Bucky pins Steve’s dick against his lower abdomen then, licking his underside vein with wanton desire. His head drops down further to mouth at Steve’s balls, and Steve’s grip tightens in Bucky’s hair, causing Bucky to release a low groan of desire deep in his throat.

He returns to lightly suck at the tip, tasting Steve’s leaking slit and swallowing it up greedily. It’s been so long since they’ve done this, and neither he or Steve is going to last much longer.

“Bucky - shit - I - I’m gonna. . .” Steve moans, gazing down into Bucky’s eyes, and it sends a spark through Bucky’s entire body. He can’t help himself then, and he brings his metal hand back from where he was gripping Steve’s hip, moves Steve’s shirt up and out of the way, spreads Steve’s cheeks, and runs his middle finger over Steve’s hole slowly.

Steve’s knees buckle, and he’s letting out a loud, breathy moan as he’s drawn so much closer, practically vibrating with his need to release. He looks so fucking pretty like this, deep blush on his cheeks, flush spreading down his neck, head thrown back in pleasure, and dick impossibly growing harder at Bucky’s slow exploration of his hole, pulsating in Bucky’s hot mouth.

Bucky pulls off, lips swollen and mouth glistening, to tell Steve how pretty he looks, but immediately regrets it when he fucking _wheezes_ out, “God, Steve, you’re gorgeous.”

Steve is immediately looking down at him concern, grip faltering in Bucky’s hair. Bucky looks at him in confusion, before he realizes his mistake. 

The one _fucking_ time he gets his mouth around Steve in almost three weeks, the fucking _wheezing_ comes back.

Bucky groans against Steve’s hip, and Steve completely takes it the wrong way and is crouching down to look into Bucky’s eyes, “Are you okay, Bucky? Jesus, why did I let you - “

“Steve, I’m fine. I don’t know why I started wheezing, but I’m perfectly fine. Would you let me just - “

Steve gives him an appalled look, “Bucky, no! We shouldn’t have - _I_ shouldn’t have. . .” Steve trails off, brings a hand up his face to pinch the bridge of his nose, “We’re not supposed to be doing that kind of stuff, Buck. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry my. . .frustration,” Steve blushes scarlet at the words, “drove you to. . .”

Steve motions absently into the air, and Bucky puts his hand up to Steve’s face, bringing his gaze to meet Bucky’s, “I don’t know if you noticed, pal, but I’m pretty frustrated, too.”

Steve gives him an apologetic smile, “I know, Buck. But we can’t do anything until you’re all healed. We can wait. Nothing is worth hurting you, Bucky, not even - that,” Steve blushes again. “I’m _really_ sorry.”

Bucky knows Steve is being genuine, but it still feels like a slap to the face, albeit unintentionally. 

He sighs, “I know, baby. But it was worth the five minutes I got to spend with your dick down my throat, though.”

Bucky chuckles, but Steve just chokes on air. 

-

Three and a half weeks in, Bucky feels like he’s right back to square one, but it’s so much worse.

The casual touches, the wandering eyes, the waking up to hard-ons pressed into hips, has all stopped.

Steve’s stopped touching Bucky.

Like, _completely._

It’s like Steve is thoroughly off limits now. And, shit, if Bucky had known that Steve would react the way he did to Bucky’s spout of wheezing, Bucky would’ve tried just a little bit harder to get him to realize that Bucky was fine, enjoyed shoving Steve’s dick down his throat, and would wholeheartedly do it again.

Instead, Steve flat out _refuses_ to touch Bucky. He still lays with Bucky on the couch, or in their bed, cuddled up to him, but it feels like there’s a wall between them now - like Steve’s on the opposite side of the room while Bucky just sits there, wondering when he’ll feel the warmth of Steve’s body heat warm him until he feels it in his heart. 

But now, it seems Steve’s trying to fill the days in with tasks that otherwise would have been taken up with their normal routine together. Steve will sit on the opposite end of the couch, leaned up against the armrest, sketching the muscles of Bucky’s back, and decidedly _not touching Bucky_ while Bucky just stares at him, his heart full of longing. 

Bucky’s not naive enough to not know that Steve’s reaction to this entire no-touch thing has everything to do with Bucky’s own inability to keep his hands to himself. He’s never been able to hold back, not when it comes to Steve. And this time off, where he’s got nothing to do but stare at Steve until his eyes start to hurt, is not helping him comply to Steve’s stern no-touch standards.

And Bucky’s not a dick. He would never force Steve into something Steve wasn’t comfortable with, would never in his life force himself upon his husband without Steve’s explicit permission. He’s in love with the guy for a reason, and Bucky would live out the rest of his life at Steve’s side, strictly celibate, and still think he’s the luckiest guy in the world to have Steve as his husband.

But a small part of him can’t help but to think that Steve’s being a little ridiculous.

They’re _married_ , for God’s sake. If that ring on Steve’s finger doesn’t scream how taken he is, then Bucky doesn’t know what would. Just the sight of that matching ring on Bucky's own finger is enough to make his head spin, and he doesn’t understand why Steve just won’t let him at _least_ kiss him sometimes. 

Yeah, Steve won’t even let Bucky kiss him for more than five seconds, won’t let Bucky deepen the kiss at all. This is the most chaste their relationship has ever been, even back when they were scared to death that any soldier on the front lines was going to discover them, or that they'd be caught out when they were a little too vocal in their shared Brooklyn apartment. Their entire relationship feels like it did when they had to keep it a secret. There are many words Bucky would use to describe Steve, but _clandestine_ is definitely not one of them. 

And it’s not like Bucky can just grab Steve by the shoulders, shake him, and ask _Why won’t you touch me anymore?_ because he gets it. Steve’s just trying to do what he thinks is right, and how could Bucky ever go against that when all he’s ever tried to do is get Steve to realize that Bucky will always support him in everything he does?

This entire situation is a torture Bucky was not expecting when he was told he’d get to rest up and be with his husband, alone, for six weeks.

Yet here they are, on separate sides of the couch - Steve, with his sketchpad in his lap, idly drawing the contours of Bucky’s face, and Bucky, wrapped up in his weighted blanket, glaring at the documentary about killer whales he’s got playing on the TV - and trying desperately not to feel awkward around the one person they both should feel absolutely comfortable with.

All Bucky can think about is crawling into Steve’s lap and kissing him senseless. His inability to do so makes him want to scream.

This _sucks_. 

“Do you remember our wedding night?” Bucky asks suddenly, still staring steadfast at the TV, but interrupting the growing tension between he and Steve.

Steve glances up, pausing in his sketching, and mutters, “You know I do, Buck.”

Bucky grins, “I had a dream about it last night.”

Steve stiffens then, shifting his legs slightly, “S’that why you woke up. . .aroused?”

“I wake up hard for you every morning,” Bucky scoffs, bringing his arms out of the blanket to cross them over his chest. 

Steve gulps dryly, “What was your dream about?”

“I think it was more like a memory, actually,” Bucky says, glancing at Steve out of the corner of his eye, before turning his head to fully catch his gaze. “About when you picked me up and fucked me against our shower wall, when our wedding suits were still on, and I got you off reminding you that you were completely mine forever.” 

Bucky sees Steve gulp again, twisting the pencil he’s got in his hand, “Bucky - “

“You remember how good it was? That was the first time you'd made love to me in months. And not for lack of trying, really,” Bucky says, pushing the blanket aside, staring hotly at his husband, “I just always want you so bad and can’t stop myself from wanting to make you scream for me, baby.”

He runs his right hand up Steve’s bare left leg then, until he’s pushing past the fabric of Steve’s old basketball shorts, slowly working his way up to where he wants to be the most.

“God, that night was perfect, Stevie,” Bucky continues, inching his fingers up the meat of Steve’s thigh. He moves closer then, to get better access, and to climb between Steve’s parted legs - which Bucky doesn’t think Steve realizes that he’s opened them - and can see the rising tent in Steve’s shorts.

“We were so wound up that we couldn’t even wait to get out of our suits. I shoved you against the wall, and ripped your dress shirt off. God, you were so beautiful, soaking wet from the shower spray and still in your dress pants. And then I got on my knees for you. Shit, Steve, that’s one of my favorite places to be, baby. Between your thighs,” Bucky groans, grabbing Steve’s left thigh to maneuver his leg around Bucky's hip. “I couldn’t wait to get you out of that suit. And the water was ruining it. But I just ripped your pants off and swallowed you down.”

Bucky kisses Steve then, hands running up inside Steve’s shirt to lightly run his fingers up Steve’s sides. The sketchbook lays unattended on Steve’s chest, and Bucky rips his hand out and grabs it, throwing it to the side so it lands on the coffee table. Steve’s hands are on Bucky’s shoulders, gripping him tightly. 

“Buck,” Steve says breathily against Bucky’s lips, and Bucky moves down to nip and kiss at Steve’s throat before he continues.

“You look so pretty when I’ve got my mouth on you, baby,” and to emphasize his point, he bites down on Steve’s pulse point, “And I was aching to get you in my mouth, and you let me have you for a little bit, before you pulled me up, and then I was the one writhing against the wall.” 

Steve inhales sharply, and Bucky grinds himself down, “God, you opened me up so well. I wasn’t prepared for how good it’d feel - having your fingers inside me while I fell apart for you. Fuck, it felt so good,” A pause. “Do you remember how good it felt, Stevie?”

“Shit, Bucky,” Steve whimpers, head thrown back as Bucky continues his assault on Steve’s neck. He’s trembling on the couch, hard and aching beneath his shorts. 

Bucky just grins, placing his hand on the center of Steve’s chest, and slowly moves it downward, “And then you fucked into me completely, and I swear I saw stars, baby. You made me feel so good, so loved. And I was aching for you, Stevie, like I am right now.” Bucky pushes past the barrier of Steve’s shorts and briefs, and gets his hand around Steve. Steve groans brokenly at the touch.

Bucky strokes Steve the way he knows gets Steve writhing against him, and whimpers, “Fuck, I want you so bad, Stevie.” 

His lips are on Steve’s then, tongues gliding hotly as Bucky moans into the kiss. 

Steve grabs his wrist then, stopping Bucky’s hand just as he’s getting a good rhythm going, and pants against Bucky’s lips, “Bucky, stop. You know we can’t - not until you’re healed, baby.” 

Bucky stops then, pulling away slightly and taking in deep lungfuls of air, before he’s removing his hand and lifting both of his arms up in a mock surrender. Steve just looks at him sadly.

“Well, what am I supposed to do, Stevie? I’m not going to apologize,” Bucky huffs, sitting back in his spot, moving the blanket back on top of him while readjusting himself in his pants, and quietly mutters, “You won’t even let me touch you anymore.” 

Steve hears him, of course, and releases a pained sigh as he sits up fully on the couch, still stone hard and panting, “Bucky, you know I want you to, sweetheart, but that leads to other things we can’t do just yet. I’m struggling with it just as much as you are.”

Bucky can’t help but bite back, “Clearly, you’re not - judging by the way you won’t even let me properly kiss you. And yet, there you sit, sketching in your goddamn book, acting like none of this is having any effect on you. I’m sorry that I’m in love with my husband and can’t stop myself from just wanting a _kiss_."

Steve balks at that, rounding on Bucky immediately, “So this is all my fault, because I don’t want you to get injured further, be benched even _longer_ and not able to go back into the field, just because it’s taking every ounce of my self-control to sit here and wait until you’re healed? And you had your tongue down my throat not even a minute ago, Bucky. Don’t act like I’m the bad guy here."

Bucky settles him with narrowed eyes, “Oh, so I don’t have any self-control? I’m just a sexed up piece of shit who can’t keep his paws off your silky drawers?”

“Stop putting words in my mouth Bucky, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, right,” Bucky scoffs.

Steve’s jaw clenches, "Well, when you’re constantly trying to climb into my lap, or get your hand down my pants, what am I _supposed_ to think, Bucky? That you just want to cuddle? You literally just had your hand down my pants before I could even tell you no, that we _shouldn’t_ , because _you’re still hurt_.”

Bucky rounds on him, angry, because he hates what Steve is implying, “What the fuck, Steve? We’re _married_. That’s what married couples _do_. They have a lot of sex. You really think I’m that much of an asshole - to not know to stop when you say no?"

Steve just shakes his head, “You shouldn’t be doing things that could injure you further, Bucky. That’s not going to help you heal faster, and it’s not going to make me suddenly let you blow me when you could shift you rib, so that it punctures your _goddamn_ lung _again_ , and make it so that you can’t _breathe_ , just from the strain of moving to your knees.”

“I’m not a child who needs you to scold me, Steve.” 

“Well, then stop _acting_ like one, Bucky.”

That gets Bucky shutting up and glaring. His heart floods with a mixture of anger and hurt. How could Steve ever think that _low_ of Bucky? 

Immediately, Steve’s backtracking, “Shit - I’m sorry, Buck, you know I didn’t mean - “

Bucky clenches his jaw, grits out, “I don’t know how you could _possibly_ believe that, Steve - “

“I don’t, Bucky, I promise,” Steve says, his eyes pleading, but Bucky’s furious.

“Yeah, sure. Okay. I’m just. . .going to go lie down.” 

He’s got to get away right now, or he’s going to explode. The one thing he hates most in this world is fighting with Steve. 

“Buck - “ Steve tries, and then he’s pushing himself up, trying to grab Bucky’s arm to get him to stop, to talk.

Bucky turns around, sighing, “Please, just. . . leave me alone. I need to calm down.”

Steve just nods, lets Bucky’s arm fall, and watches pitifully as Bucky disappears behind their bedroom door.

-

Steve, with a heavy heart and a sinking feeling in his stomach, sleeps on the couch that night.

-

They don’t talk about it for the rest of the week. 

Every time Steve tries to apologize or get Bucky to acknowledge that they both did wrong during their stupid argument, Bucky just asks him to drop it. 

Bucky knows Steve didn’t mean the connotations of what he'd said, and, honestly, thinks Steve has nothing to apologize for. _Bucky_ , on the other hand, feels like a complete asshole. He didn’t mean for Steve to think that all Bucky ever wants from his is sex, didn’t think that it would ever cross Steve’s mind that, when all Bucky was trying to do was make him feel good, Steve felt like a measly tool, only used as some sort of pawn to relieve some of Bucky’s sexual frustrations. 

Steve is his husband, the person Bucky loves most in this world, wants to prove to him all the time that Bucky’s worthy of Steve and Steve’s love, and now Bucky’s made Steve feel like he’s nothing but a warm mouth, a nice, tight heat for Bucky to fuck into when he’s horny.

And that’s just about the worst thing Bucky thinks he ever could have done.

Bucky feels like such an asshole, thinks Steve is crazy for wanting to stay with Bucky when Bucky treated him like he was _nothing_ \- like he wasn’t Bucky’s entire world and the one thing Bucky can’t live without - and it’s causing Bucky to panic almost to the point of hyperventilation whenever he so much as catches Steve’s eye.

And it’s about to be so much worse.

Four weeks into Bucky’s recovery time, Steve gets deployed. 

Bucky wakes up with a jolt, not entirely sure what’s woken him up. After their argument, when Steve slept on the couch (and - no, okay? That sleep was the worst one Bucky’s had since they got married) Bucky had woken to an empty bed and an equally empty heart, and pulled Steve back into their bed at four in the morning. Ever since then, Steve’s been sleeping on his side of the bed, still holding Bucky’ hand like he’s taken to doing since that first night, but it feels awful. There’s so much space between them, and Bucky feels cold all the time, like he’s devoid of Steve’s warmth. 

Bucky’s never felt this cold before, even when he was locked in the cryo tube for decades at a time.

But he wakes nonetheless, sees Steve’s side of the bed empty, and promptly gets up, stretches a little to wake up his tired muscles, and opens their bedroom door to search their huge apartment for where Steve’s gone off to.

When he catches sight of Steve, in the living room, receiving a comforting rub on his upper back from _Wilson_ , suited up with the shield leaning against the leg of the coffee table, Bucky decidedly thinks _This is not going to be a good morning._

“Hey, Buck,” Steve says quietly, and Wilson’s arm falls from Steve’s shoulder to rest somewhat jarringly at his side.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky replies, because he can’t bring himself to be able to see the warmth in Steve’s eyes at any other affectionate nickname he wants to call Steve, not when he doesn’t deserve it - “Wilson.”

Wilson gives him a small, reassuring smile, like he always does when greeting Bucky, “Hey, Barnes.”

Bucky looks back to Steve then, crossing his arms over his naked chest. It doesn’t feel right to be on display like this in front of anyone but Steve.

“Why are you all suited up?”

Steve sighs deeply, “Sam and I are being deployed, Buck. Sam was just here to pick me up and brief me on the mission.” 

Dread creeps its fingers around Bucky’s heart in an icy grip. He mutters, “Deployed?” And then he _really_ takes Steve in again, sees how he looks seconds away from walking out the door, “Were you even going to wake me up to let me know you were shipping out? Or to tell me goodbye?”

Bucky doesn’t want to think about the implication of how his voice cracks at the end of his sentence. 

Steve looks startled and bewildered, “Bucky, of course. I wouldn’t just _leave_ you like that. I was going to see if you were awake just as soon as Sam was going to go out and wait in the car in a minute.” He inhales sharply, “I wouldn’t leave you without filling you in, or telling you goodbye, Buck.” 

Bucky’s silent at that, doesn’t know what to say to Steve’s kind and reassuring words. A knot unravels in his chest, and Bucky takes another deep breath. 

Wilson brings his hand up to pat Steve’s shoulder again, “I’ll leave you two to talk,” a nod in Bucky’s direction, and then to Steve, “I’ll wait for you outside, Cap.”

“I’ll be there in a minute, Sam,” Steve says politely, and Bucky tries to stop himself from feeling slightly jealous as he eyes the way Wilson's hand looks at ease on Steve’s shoulder.

When the door shuts behind Wilson to signal his departure, Bucky can’t help but murmur, under his breath, “So Wilson gets to touch you, but I can’t?”

Steve gives him an apologetic look, “Bucky. . .” He inhales deeply. “Sam was just. . .comforting me, I guess?”

“About what?” Bucky asks, but his voice feels weak, not his usual confident baritone.

Steve exhales another sigh, “Because I can’t stand leaving you right now, not when you’re hurt, and not when you’re this mad at me.”

Bucky feels his legs give out from underneath him, and he’s surprised when he doesn’t keel over. How can Steve think Bucky could ever be mad at _him_? 

He’s around the couch and on Steve in seconds, pulling him into a tight hug, “God, Steve, I’m not mad at you. Was never mad at you.” 

Steve lets out a breath, and his voice is wobbly as he says, “That’s - ah - good. I don’t think I could handle going into the field right now knowing that you’re mad at me. It’d mess with my head too much.”

Bucky pulls back to look Steve in the eyes, “Stevie, baby, I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you.” He hugs Steve again, feeling Steve’s warm arms slip around his backside, “But you have every right to be mad at me.”

Steve pulls back, a shocked expression on his face, like he can’t fathom why he would ever be mad at his husband, “What? About what, Bucky?”

“Cause I’m such an asshole,” Bucky says, and he has to sniffle and clear his throat, afraid he’s going to start tearing up, “I made you feel like all you were good for, to me, was sex.” When Steve looks like he’s going to interrupt, Bucky continues, “And you’re not, baby. God, you’re my entire world, Steve. I can’t breathe when I’m not around you. I can’t think straight until I know you’re here, safe with me. I’m so in love with you that sometimes it hurts. I don’t ever want to make you think that you’re a piece of meat, something only to be used for my enjoyment. It makes me sick to my stomach that I hurt you like that. I hate myself for making you feel like that, Stevie.” 

Steve looks at Bucky with so much love in his eyes that Bucky feels it all the way down to his toes, “Bucky, I don’t think that all! I’m so sorry you’ve been feeling like this since our fight. If I’d known. . . “ He trails off, looks annoyed for a second, before he’s bringing his hand up to rub his thumb against Bucky’s cheekbone, “I love you so much, Buck. I honestly don’t know what I would do without you. I’m not mad at you, and I know you didn’t mean to imply what you said to me, and I don’t hold it against you. That’s not how I took it _at all_ , Bucky. I promise.”

“You’re not mad at me?” Bucky whispers, and leans his forehead against Steve’s, inhaling his calming scent.

Steve shakes his head, “I’m not mad at you.”

“Good,” Bucky exhales sharply, swallowing around his suddenly dry tongue, “That’s - good. But I’m still sorry, regardless.”

“I am too, Buck. I hate fighting with you. It feels like my heart is being ripped out of my chest every time we argue.”

Bucky chuckles around a sniffle, “Yeah,” he nods, “me, too.”

Steve leans in further then, kissing Bucky softly, before he’s pulling away again all too soon. “I’m so thankful we’ve cleared this up.” And he gives Bucky a small grin, before it turns sour. “But Sam’s waiting for me, and I’ve got to go.”

Bucky’s hands tighten around a strap on Steve’s shoulders, “I don’t want you to go.”

“Me either, Buck,” Steve replies, petulant eyes gazing into Bucky’s.

Bucky nods, sniffling again, “I guess it was naive of me, but I just thought. . .” he trails off, willing the lump in his throat to go away, “that you wouldn’t be sent off without me yet, not while I was still benched.”

Steve looks at him with those sad eyes of his, says pitifully, “Buck. . .”

“I know, Stevie - was stupid of me to even think it.”

“No it wasn’t, Buck. I thought I wasn’t going to be sent off either. But there’s a situation in Egypt, and you know how it goes.” A pause. “I don’t want to go just as much as you don’t want me to go. I can’t stand it that I’m not going to be here, with you, while you’re hurt.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll be fine.” It’s Bucky’s turn to pause now. “And you’ll have _Wilson_ to keep you company.” 

Bucky doesn’t mean to say Wilson’s name like that - filled with mocking and jealousy - but it comes out that way anyway. 

Steve pulls back slightly then, and there’s an honest expression on his face when he says, “It's _Sam_ , Buck. You like Sam.”

Bucky just shrugs, “I like him less when he’s got his hands all over you.”

Steve chuckles self-deprecatingly, “Bucky - “

“I know, baby. I shouldn’t be jealous, but I am. He’s gotten to touch more of you than I have in two weeks, and I’m your _husband_. You can’t fault me for envying him,” Bucky replies, only exaggerating slightly. He _did_ have his hand around Steve’s dick three days go. 

Steve goes back to looking sad, “When this is all over, and it’s just you and me, and you’re all completely healed up, you can touch me until you’re sick of it.”

“Never get sick of you,” Bucky replies, but he’s blushing slightly, toes curling at the thought of Steve’s words.

Steve leans in again, pressing his lips to Bucky’s and Bucky can’t help but let out a pleased sigh, because _this_ is what’s been deprived of these past two weeks - Steve’s lips on his, kissing him deeply, full of passion and love, until Bucky feels breathless. 

And, again, it’s over all too soon. 

Steve pulls back, looking the epitome of apologetic, like it pains him to stop kissing Bucky, but Bucky beats him to it.

“You better go, Captain. Egypt’s waitin’ on ya.” 

Steve smiles at him, pulls Bucky into another kiss, whispers _I love you_ against Bucky’s lips, and then he’s leaning down to grab his shield, hooking it onto his back. 

He turns to walk out the front door, but Bucky stops him by grabbing his wrist, and pulls him into another heart-aching kiss. 

“Be safe, Steve. I mean it,” Bucky says against Steve’s lips, then pulls Steve into a tight bear hug. He whispers, “I love you, too, baby,” into Steve’s ear, feeling his voice tremble. 

And then Steve’s pulling away, gives Bucky a small, reassuring smile, before he’s turning and walking out their front door, and taking Bucky’s heart with him.

-

Steve’s been gone for a week and a half.

In three days, Bucky’s six week recovery time will end.

And Bucky is absolutely _miserable_. 

For the entire time that Steve’s been gone, Bucky goes through the motions of each day the exact same: brushing his teeth, showering, eating crackers or soup just to fill his stomach, watching TV even though it does nothing to distract him, reads a book if he can focus well enough, asks FRIDAY for an update on Steve for what seems like every fifteen minutes but is really only every hour, and waits for Steve to come home.

Every time Bucky thinks about where Steve could be, he google-searches _Steve Barnes_ , and the only relevant information that comes up are some articles saying Steve’s been deployed with Wilson, and that the mission is classified and no one knows where they’ve been sent.

Bucky almost throws his phone across the room at that, but instead flings it to the other end of the couch. 

The first day Steve had been gone, Bucky had accidentally fallen back asleep after he and Wilson had left, woke up to an empty bed, remembered Steve had been deployed without him, and promptly panicked.

It’s not like Bucky needs to go on every mission Steve is assigned to. Years ago, when he wasn’t cleared to go on any mission yet, Steve was deployed mostly by himself, sometimes with Natasha or Clint, and more so with Wilson ever since he became a fixture. The point is, Steve is rarely sent off without anyone to back him up, or someone to look out for him when things get hairy. It’s just - the person that normally backs Steve up on a mission is _Bucky_.

The first mission he ever went on with Steve was a trial run to see if Bucky could even handle being out in the field (and took no small amount of begging on Steve’s part). It was a small, undercover stakeout that lasted only about three hours total. Bucky’s sure it wasn’t worthy of Steve’s expertise, knows that he was being tested to see how he would take to basic instructions, but he’s glad nonetheless that he was able to start his career as a normal, functioning SHIELD agent with Steve by his side, however tedious the mission had been.

Now, though, almost every mission Steve gets deployed on, Bucky does, too. It’s a known fact that the two of them work exceptionally well together, even better than the equally dynamic Clint and Natasha. When they’re sent out together, Bucky and Steve work in unison, effortlessly disarming an assailant of their weapons, or apprehending suspects when prompted. 

Their dynamic has only increased since they got married. Bucky knows it’s probably not the smartest idea to be sent out with Steve on missions. He gets why some fellow lower-level agents disapprove of sending spouses out into the field together (he’s more likely to stop what he’s doing if Steve is in trouble, like taking out a hostile, or running into a burning building to make sure Steve doesn’t burn to death - while Steve does the exact same, like ignoring explicit orders to take out an assailant while said assailant had a gun to Bucky’s head, or refusing to leave Bucky behind when he was virtually kidnapped and almost tortured when Steve had direct orders to _under no circumstances_ engage with the kidnappers) but that’s never affected their teamwork, or how they work together. 

Yes, Bucky goes into impossible situations where either himself or the man he loves could potentially not make it out alive, but that doesn’t mean he would ever want to stop working with Steve just because the aspect of losing him is more than Bucky can handle. Bucky would rather be the one charging in with him, instead of on his own or with someone else on the team, if only to be able to provide Steve with the instinct and backup he needs.

Which is why Bucky is not handling Steve’s departure well _at all_.

It’s killing him, knowing that Steve is out there, someplace dangerous - because the mission has extended past Egypt now, and the last time Bucky checked, Steve and Wilson were somewhere in eastern Istanbul - and he’s without Bucky there to help him. And he’s got nothing against Wilson (except maybe a slight overactive jealous streak), but Wilson doesn’t know Steve like Bucky does - doesn’t know that Steve prefers his stealth suit over the flashy red, white, and blue one, or that Steve likes to enter sweeps before his partners so that he’s between them and any potential threat, or even that he prefers his fists to a gun because he actually wants hostiles to live to be prosecuted instead of avoiding punishment.

But all Bucky can do is sit here, in their bed, missing Steve like crazy, and do nothing but drive himself into a panic worrying about Steve’s wellbeing. 

Like how he is now, hoping like hell that he’ll stop hyperventilating enough to calm himself down.

On the second day, Bucky contacts Fury to ask him what the hell he was thinking sending Steve out like that, when Bucky couldn’t go with him, and doesn’t get a reply. 

The next day, Bucky wakes from a nightmare, Zola’s cold and unruly eyes vivid in his memory, and he has to sit down in the shower to stop himself from slipping into a panic attack - because the only person who can pull him out his panic attacks is halfway across the world. 

On the fourth day, Bucky goes for a run to distract himself, hopes the pain in his lungs will distract him from the pain in his heart. He runs twenty miles before he feels like his legs are going to fall off. It does nothing to dispel his tension.

On the fifth day, Bucky thinks about contacting Steve, if only just to reach out to see if he’ll respond, but he quickly talks himself out of that idea. He doesn’t want to distract Steve from his tasks, no matter how much he tells himself that one text message won’t hurt. He doesn’t contact Steve.

On the sixth day, he thinks about distracting himself from his worry by touching himself, but it just feels wrong without Steve. He wasn’t injured enough not to ease some of his frustrations in the shower like Steve did, back a couple of weeks ago, but he hasn’t had an orgasm in two weeks, and the tension is starting to build again - and he can’t bring himself to do it, not when Steve’s not here to enjoy it with him.

One week in, Bucky gets desperate and meets with Stark to entertain Stark's idea about installing a new model of the current metal side piece Bucky’s toting around. 

“So how’s the arm treating you, Sarge?” Stark asks, from where’s he’s currently got holograms of Bucky’s metal arm surrounding them on various work counters.

Bucky just shrugs, unbothered, “It’s heavy, still, and hurts my back.”

“Is it pulling on your chest at all?” Stark asks, moving to Bucky’s left side, snapping on a pair of blue latex gloves as he goes.

“No, not really,” Bucky grunts, nodding at Stark’s unspoken question of moving in to assess the arm.

“This new arm is going to be lighter and a lot more aerodynamic, so you shouldn’t have any problems in your range of motion. And it shouldn’t cause you any discomfort anymore,” Stark replies, carefully staying in Bucky’s eye line as he grabs what looks like a heart monitor and gently hooks it onto his left bicep. 

Stark’s always been the most careful around Bucky, even just with his words. He’s not as sassy or even as friendly as he is with Steve, or Bruce, or - hell, even _Natasha_. He’s constantly careful with his actions and words when he’s alone with Bucky, like now, where he doesn’t have the comfort of another team member to dispel some of the nervous tension in his shoulders.

Bucky’s nervous, too. He’s on edge, and he doesn’t even have Steve here to hold his hand, or just comfort Bucky with his presence while Stark does whatever it is he does at these appointments. 

This past week hasn't been anything short of agonizing, and the last thing he wants to do is spend time alone, without Steve by his side - or acting as a buffer, or just being here with Bucky, safe and right where he’s supposed to be - with Tony Stark, and in Tony’s Stark dim lit lab no less.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Stark. He’s actually pretty okay by Bucky’s standards - nice when he wants to be, never an asshole to Bucky because he still thinks that Bucky’s a hairsbreadth away from regressing back into a deadly assassin. He doesn’t like to be alone with Bucky, either. 

But Stark’s a valuable member of the team, and no matter how much Stark acts like he doesn’t care about anyone but himself, it’s easy to tell that at least some of that hard exterior melts away when he acts in the best interest of his teammates - often times upgrading their weapons or suits without really being needed to ask, or just giving stoic advice that screams _you’re being an idiot_ but he otherwise wouldn’t offer unless he thinks someone really needed to hear it.

He even placed a tracker in Steve’s suit years ago for Bucky, with Steve’s permission, that only Bucky has access to, just so Bucky could have some peace of mind when he wasn’t allowed to go on missions yet. It’s allowed Bucky to stay updated on a constant, accurate status of Steve’s whereabouts and vitals while he’s over god knows where - which is enough to make Bucky calm slightly, if only marginally.

Bucky may not care for Stark’s indifferent attitudes and philanthropist mindset, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t consider Tony a friend and confidant. 

There's an unspoken truce between them, too. It's not a secret that Bucky was coerced into murdering Stark's parents, and it's something Bucky wishes he could take back. He feels the guilt every time he looks at Stark, for depriving him of his family, no matter how dysfunctional it was at the time. He'll forever regret what's he's done, won't ever stop feeling the guilt of decades of coerced murders he can't ever make right. But Stark understands, now, all the brainwashing and torture Bucky went through. He won't ever forgive Bucky completely for what he's done, but they've both been able to somewhat move past it and come out as allies on the other side, which is why Bucky continues to show up for these regular checkups on his arm, if only to allow Stark to satisfy his curiosity about how the arm functions and operates, and regularly build him a new one.

So, he sits on Stark’s way too comfortable lounger in his lab, letting him poke and prod at Bucky’s already perfectly operational metal arm, and all the while missing Steve like hell while he does it.

And it’s not like it was an actual hardship, really, to come down and let Stark distract Bucky’s mind a little from the state of worry he’s in. Stark literally works ten floors down from where Steve and Bucky live in the compound, so it’s not like he could escape Stark even if he wanted to. It’s not so bad, though, and Bucky can at least admit to appreciating this small distraction, and he doesn’t mind Stark’s company all that much.

Bucky’s about ten seconds away from losing it at any given time, so he’ll take what little distraction he can.

But Bucky just grunts at Stark’s explanation of his new metal arm, because he has to keep up appearances somehow, and just says, “Thank you.”

Stark looks taken aback and uneasy, the same reaction he has whenever Bucky thanks him after these arm appointments, and nods, “I’m not going to install it yet. I just wanted your approval on it so I didn’t need to make any changes to it. I’m under strict orders from your husband to only install it when you are completely, one hundred percent, healed.”

Bucky scoffs, “I _am_ healed.”

“And I can tell by that slight wince of pain you just tried to hide that you're being completely honest with me.”

As if to prove Stark’s point, FRIDAY’s voice chimes in, “My diagnostic analysis of Sergeant Barnes’s pain threshold has lead me to believe that he is in more pain than he says, boss.”

Stark raises his eyebrows at Bucky, and Bucky just glares back (because he hasn’t had actual human interaction for a week now _give him a break_ ) and grits out, “I’m fine.”

“It’s only been five weeks, Sarge. When Nat broke one rib, she was holed up for two months. You’ve broken two. It’s okay to let yourself be in pain.” 

Bucky just stares at him, “Steve tell you to tell me that?”

Stark gets a mischievous glint in his eyes, “In more words, yes. Along with Wilson chiming in about proper recovery times.” 

Bucky groans at that, because if both Wilson _and_ Steve are ganging up on him, he doesn’t stand a chance. 

The jealousy thing still hasn’t worn off yet, but he knows he and Steve’s relationship is secure, and that Bucky honestly has no reason to be jealous. 

It won’t dwindle, Bucky thinks, until Steve’s back in their bed, with Bucky’s arms around him, safe and happy and healthy.

“Are you still in a lot of pain?” Stark asks, bringing Bucky’s attention to the other side of his work counter, where Stark’s spinning the arm hologram around to inspect the wiring of it.

“No. It only hurts if I strain my chest too much,” and at Stark’s ‘a-ha’ look, Bucky adds, “Which means, I have to _really_ strain it to feel any pain at all. I’ve been through worse, Stark. This isn’t enough to keep me benched.”

“So you don’t enjoy just spending all this relaxed, alone time with Steve?” Starks asks, innocently. 

Bucky’s eyes narrow, “Don’t put words in my mouth that aren’t true.” When Stark continues to avoid his eyes, Bucky glares, “What aren’t you telling me?”

Stark just looks petulant, “Nothing, I swear - “

“Stark,” Bucky says, menacingly.

Stark sighs, “Okay, but I’m really not supposed to say anything.” He leans up against one of his workshop counters. “When you were in surgery for your chest, Steve would sometimes come out to give us all updates, letting us know you were doing alright.” At Bucky’s nod - because, yes, he knows this part - Stark continues, "And then, suddenly, you stopped breathing when Steve was in the waiting room giving us an update. They wouldn’t let him back in to the operating room, and he started panicking. I’ve never seen someone fall completely apart so fast. And Steve’s a tough guy, y’know? With everything - except you. You’re his one weakness. And you stopped breathing. You died. You went without oxygen to your brain for three minutes before they were able to revive you. And it was only twenty minutes after you stopped breathing that he was let back in again.” 

Bucky takes in a deep breath, melancholy feeling his insides. Why didn’t Steve tell him that? God, Steve was probably freaking out and - 

“Fuck,” Bucky murmurs, metal hand coming up to run through his hair.

“Yeah,” Stark agrees, blowing out a puff of air.

“Is that why I’m off for so long, because Steve swindled Fury into not letting me go on any missions for six weeks?”

Stark smirks, “No. That was actually the doctor’s orders, because it really does take at least six weeks for a broken rib to properly heal. Fury knows you’re strong, Sarge. He knows he could put you back in and you wouldn’t complain, but does he really need the added fight of pissing off Captain America to do it?” 

And, shit. How could Bucky be so blind? All of this time with Steve, he’s been taking it for granted. He’s been trying to convince Steve that it’s okay to touch him, when Steve’s panicking on the inside that every little move is going to cause Bucky to stop breathing again. And, fuck, that fight they had? _Did not help at all in the slightest._

This inner turmoil inside Steve is raging hard, and Bucky’s only been adding fuel to the fire, instead of extinguishing it. And telling Steve that he was jealous of _Sam_? What a low blow. No matter how true it had been at the time, Bucky realizes now how upsetting that’s got to be to Steve. All he’s been trying to do is keep Bucky safe, and whole, and trying to convince himself that Bucky’s alright, that’s he’s alive - and Bucky is so goddamn _stupid_. 

“Fuck,” Bucky sighs again. “My husband is the most romantic person on this earth, and I’m a _fucking_ idiot.” 

Stark just chuckles, removing the device that looks like a heart monitor from Bucky’s bicep, “I’m sure he’d love to hear that when he gets back.” 

“I told him I was jealous of Wilson, Stark, because Sam got to touch Steve and I didn’t. And made him feel like he was obligated to touch _me_ , when all he’s been doing is freaking out this entire time. God, I’m such an idiot.” 

Stark laughs again, “All that righteousness, the things that make Steve a good man, are what’s stopping him from touching you, Sarge. He’s scared, and he’s got every right to be. When he gets back, show him why he doesn’t _need_ to be.” 

And how did this conversation get so deep? Stark is definitely not the first - or the second, or even the tenth - person that Bucky would choose to have a deep conversation with. 

But Bucky realizes where’s he gone wrong now, knows what he needs to do to fix it.

“Thank you, Stark,” Bucky says, and he honestly means it.

Stark just looks at him, smiles slightly, and nods, “So when did you want to schedule your arm installation?” 

Their conversation has been playing over and over in Bucky’s head since it happened.

Every time he gets to thinking about it, he freaks out a little and is filled with sorrow. How could he not have seen how panicked Steve was? The constant sketching - like Steve was trying to memorize Bucky’s face so he could put it to paper effortlessly, scared he’d never get to see the real thing again - or even the no-touch thing. Steve’s been scared out of his mind to touch Bucky - filled with misery every time he so much as felt aroused at Bucky’s constant seduction. 

Well, the entire situation just makes Bucky feel awful. If he’d known Steve was feeling guilty about touching him, Bucky never would have pushed like he had. God, he’s such an _asshole_. 

It’s all he’s been thinking about up until this very moment, where he’s lying on the couch - a week and a half in - and feeling like he’s got a storm raging inside his head. 

Bucky didn’t mean to make Steve feel like this, however unintentionally it happened. His head is swarming with tumultuous thoughts - swirling around inside himself until he feels like he’s choking on them. He needs Steve here so he can clear everything up, get him to understand that Bucky’s not going anywhere, and make him feel loved and cherished and not _guilty_ anymore. 

It’s a long time before Bucky falls asleep that night. 

Not even two hours later, Bucky’s woken by a gentle caress on his cheek not currently pressed into his pillow, and he’s startling into consciousness blearily, blinking up into those gorgeous familiar baby blue eyes he so desperately loves.

“Steve,” Bucky says, and he’s suddenly more awake now, abruptly sitting up from his place on the couch and letting the weighted blanket he can’t sleep without pool around his shoulders.

Steve smiles a gentle smile down at him, “Hey, Buck. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I would have been mad if you hadn’t, Stevie - God, when did you get back?” Bucky’s asking quickly, hand coming up to run through his unruly hair.

Steve’s dressed in civilian clothes - a soft sweater, leather jacket, and jeans. He looks breathtaking in the moonlight seeping through their living room. 

“Just now. I had Sam drop me off. We can debrief later today. I just really wanted to see you,” Steve replies, and then he’s leaning down to press a soft kiss to Bucky’s forehead.

Bucky breaks.

“Fuck, Steve, I missed you so much,” Bucky breathes shakily, and he’s trembling slightly, trying to fight back the wave of emotion he feels. Steve’s here, and he’s safe with Bucky, right where he belongs.

Bucky’s reaching up and tugging Steve down quickly, but gently, before he realizes it, needing to feel Steve’s lips against his. 

They kiss like they haven’t seen each other in months instead of days, but it feels so reassuring to Bucky - knowing that he’s finally got Steve back in his arms, and he’s not letting go anytime soon.

Steve leans into his husband, still standing tall but crouching to meet Bucky’s lips, and he’s breaking the kiss, mumbling against Bucky’s lips, “God, I missed you, too. I was worried about you the whole time, Buck.”

“That’s not good, baby,” Bucky whispers back, bringing both hands up to rest against Steve’s neck, and Steve’s bringing himself down so he can sit on the coffee table - facing Bucky - and still leaning into him, “You can’t be distracted on a mission. Things go bad if you’re distracted, Stevie. I can’t have things going bad, not when I’m not there to help you.”

Steve nods from his place against Bucky’s forehead, “I know, Buck. I wish you could have been there with me.”

“Me, too. I was out of my mind with worry for you. It was making me crazy.”

“I know. I was alerted by FRIDAY every time you checked on my status, Buck.”

Bucky grins, leaning his forehead more fully into Steve’s, “You can’t fault me for that, baby.”

Steve smiles back, kissing the corner of Bucky’s mouth softly, “No, I can’t.”

They’re both quiet for a few beats, content and thankful to be in the other’s presence. Steve runs his hand up and down Bucky’s bare flesh arm, rubbing slightly just to have a reason to stay touching Bucky. 

But he's still got that pinched look of sadness at the corner of his eyes, and Bucky's heart drops.

Bucky inhales then, steadying himself, _because he needs to get this out_ , “I’m sorry we fought a couple weeks ago.”

Steve inhales a matching sharp intake, “I am, too. I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up and lashed out at you. Not when you weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“I was basically forcing myself on you, Steve. You had a right to be upset,” Bucky says.

Steve shakes his head, “You weren’t forcing yourself on me, Bucky. You were doing what we’ve both done countless of times before. And I only stopped you because you were still healing and were still injured.”

“No, you stopped me because I made you feel uncomfortable. Like you were something meaningless to me - just another hole to fuck, and just another body to feel warm against mine.”

Steve hesitates slightly, but it’s enough to let Bucky know he was on the right track, “No, Bucky - “

“Steve, you can admit it, sweetheart. I’ve been making myself sick ever since you’ve been gone just thinking about it. About how I made you feel. And you’ve gotta know that I’m _so_ sorry that I made you feel like that. It’s been tearing me apart knowing that I made you feel like you weren’t the most important person in the world to me, that you weren’t the person I love most in the world. I can’t believe I was so selfish and greedy and the absolute _worst_ husband in the world to completely disregard your thoughts and feelings because all I wanted to do was touch you - to make you feel good. ‘Cause that’s all I ever want, baby, is to make you feel good,” Bucky takes a deep breath then, “But not if that means making you feel worthless.”

Steve kisses him then, and Bucky knows Steve’s just trying to get him to calm down, but it’s one of the best kisses they’ve ever had - all consuming and passionate, like Steve is scared to ever let him go - but then he’s actually letting Bucky go, staring into Bucky’s eyes so blazingly and lovingly that Bucky’s heart hurts.

“Bucky, I want to touch you just as much as you want to touch me. I feel like the most loved person in the world whenever you touch me. No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you, or as much as you love me. When I think about how other people love each other, I think that they aren’t half as lucky as we are - because they don’t know what it’s like to have a love that consumes them. And that’s what we have, Buck. I love you so much I don’t think I could put into words how much because they wouldn’t be enough.” Bucky’s heart is beating rapidly in his chest, because, yeah, he knows all of this, but to hear Steve say it is something else entirely. “I’m so incredibly lucky to have you as my husband - to be able to have you in this world, after it took me so long to find you. I’ve loved you since I was fifteen Buck, for over eighty years. You could _never_ make me feel like I’m worthless to you.”

Steve’s taking Bucky’s face in his hands then, and then his lips are on Bucky’s. Bucky feels so exposed, a type of vulnerability he only ever feels when he’s around Steve. Steve is the one who blows life into Bucky’s lungs, makes him feel like Steve is alive in Bucky’s veins, and it’s making his head spin with how much he loves this man.

Bucky pulls Steve in closer, wanting to kiss him deeper. He’s craved this for the past five and a half weeks, this irrevocable need for each other to finally be given into. He’s missed Steve, really missed him - not just while he was deployed - but for what feels like months, until he feels it vibrating in his bones. Steve is the only one who can make Bucky crazy with want like this, with this need and desire.

Bucky’s self-control is fading fast.

He bites Steve’s bottom lip, and Steve whimpers hotly from the back of his throat. Bucky can feel his desire gnawing towards the surface, and it’s taking all of his concentration to focus on Steve to stop Bucky from pouncing.

But then Steve’s leaning back, away from Bucky, panting heavily, looking the epitome of temptation with his kiss-swollen lips and glassy eyes. Bucky chases Steve’s lips, desperate for more, but Steve places his hand on Bucky’s clothed shoulder, holding him in place.

“We still have a couple more days until you’re completely healed, Buck.”

Bucky’s so worked up, still riding the high of hearing Steve’s little speech, and it takes him a moment to fully understand why Steve’s stopping him.

“Steve, baby, I am healed. I’ve been healed for almost two weeks now. I promise, sweetheart, there’s nothing you could do to me that I couldn’t handle.” Bucky leans in towards Steve, and the weighted blanket slips off his shoulders, freeing him to move more swiftly. He kisses Steve slowly, hoping Steve feels all the love and desire he’s putting into it. “Let me make you feel good, Stevie.”

“Buck. . .” Steve trails off, letting Bucky break their kiss so he can trail hot kisses down his neck. Steve shudders, “Bucky. We can’t.”

But he’s not stopping Bucky from working his way down.

Bucky kisses Steve’s pulse point, running his teeth over it, “Why not?”

Steve inhales sharply, “Because you’re not cleared for sexual activity yet - “

Bucky bites down, and Steve breaks off his rejection with a moan. "I want you so bad, Stevie."

Steve gasps at Bucky’s words, hand coming up to run through Bucky’s short hair. 

“I’m not trying to force myself on you,” Bucky says, pulling back slightly so he can look Steve in the eye. Steve wraps his fist in Bucky’s cotton t-shirt, unwilling to let him get too far away. “And I’ll stop if you want me to stop. But please don’t stop me if you’re worried about hurting me, baby. I promise you - hell I’ll even swear it - I am completely healed.” A pause. “I would tell you if I wasn’t. I swear.”

Steve just looks at him, eyes glassy as all hell, and gives him a small smile, “All I’ve been doing these past five and a half weeks is worry about you.”

Bucky’s thumb rubs soothingly against the base of Steve’s neck, as he asks softly, “Why, sweetheart?”

“You stopped _breathing_ , Bucky. You died. And I wasn’t there when it happened. I’m terrified that I’m going to do something, even something as simple as kiss you, and you’re going to get injured and leave me again.”

Bucky stares back at him, shocked. He runs his hand up Steve’s neck and winds it around Steve’s head, tangling his fingers in Steve’s hair, and pulls him to his chest, letting Steve hear his steady heartbeat. 

“I’m scared to _move_. I’m scared to _breathe_. I’m scared to _touch_ you. I can’t lose you, Bucky. I won’t survive. I can’t live without you,” Steve breathes out.

Bucky’s heart breaks at the crack in Steve’s voice. 

“I’m right here with you, Stevie. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Steve releases a shuttering exhale, arms coming around to wrap around Bucky’s waist as he buries his head deeper into Bucky’s chest.

Bucky kisses the top of his head, “I’ll never leave you, baby. I promise.”

Steve nods shakily, breathing deeply to calm himself down. Bucky holds him for another moment, before Steve is backing up and his piercing eyes stare deeply into Bucky’s grey blues.

“Do you promise you feel completely fine? That you’re one hundred percent healed?” 

Bucky smiles softly at him, “Yes.”

Steve takes a deep breathe, “And that you’re not in any pain?”

Bucky leans in closer, “Yes.”

“And your breathing is fine, and you’re not going to start wheezing or - “

Bucky cuts Steve off with a kiss. “Yes, Steve. I’m totally _completely_ healed.”

Steve lets out soft exhale, “Okay,” and then his lips are back on Bucky’s. 

It feels amazing, just like every time they kiss. Steve’s lips are soft against Bucky’s, warm as they move against his. He’s not holding himself back anymore, and his hand comes up to cradle Bucky’s jaw. 

He’s moving from the coffee table then, climbing into Bucky’s lap, and Bucky can’t help but to groan when he gets his hands full of Steve, caged in by Steve’s thick thighs as his husband straddles him. 

“I’d like to go slow,” Steve says in-between kisses, a little shy, “to make sure we’re being careful so you don’t get hurt.”

“Okay, baby,” Bucky says, voice trembling, “Anything you want.”

Steve leans back down to Bucky’s lips, and Bucky feels electricity running through his veins. He runs his hands up Steve’s back, hands tightening in Steve’s leather jacket. He wants it off. 

Without disconnecting their kiss, Bucky moves his hands to Steve’s chest, pushing up and around until Steve has to let go of Bucky’s face so he can shrug out of this jacket, leaving him in his soft sweater. Immediately, his hands are back on Bucky’s face, gentle, holding him steady.

Steve nips softly on Bucky’s bottom lip, and it sends a shiver down Bucky’s spine. Bucky moves his hands to Steve’s waist, and moves them up and underneath Steve’s sweater, the warmth of his skin heating Bucky all over. Steve shivers slightly at the cold metal of Bucky’s left hand working it’s way over his ribs.

Steve’s hands are still cradling Bucky’s face, and he seems perfectly content to stay there for the rest of his life. And that’s perfectly alright with Bucky.

They make out for a while, on the couch, at three in the morning, but there’s no where in the world Bucky would rather be than here - with Steve on top of him, safe and alive, and kissing Bucky until he’s breathless.

Bucky feels like a wound up time bomb, like he’ll explode at any minute. His dick is starting to strain in his sweatpants, and his brain has gone to mush. Steve’s starting to grind down on him slowly, ever so slowly, and it’s driving Bucky wild. 

Steve’s been working Bucky’s throat, leaving tedious bruise after tedious bruise in his wake, and Bucky can’t help but to moan when Steve gets to _that_ spot on his neck - the one that makes his insides unravel.

“God, Steve,” Bucky groans, thrusting his hips up slightly, “Can we move this to our bedroom, baby?”

Steve gives him another kiss, before he’s nodding. He climbs off Bucky’s lap, standing right in front of Bucky and taking a deep breath. Bucky can’t help but to move his hands under Steve’s sweater so he can push it up and out of the way so he can kiss softly at his navel.

Steve smiles down at him, before he’s pulling Bucky to his feet, “C’mon, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Steve holds Bucky's hand the entire walk into their bedroom, looking at Bucky with heat in his eyes. Bucky bites his bottom lip, his head spinning.

When they walk into the room, Steve shuts the door behind them, and Bucky is immediately pushing him back against it, ravishing Steve’s lips without pause. He kisses down Steve’s neck and jaw, impatient.

“ _Buck,_ ” Steve moans, running his hands through Bucky’s hair. He kisses Bucky again, but then he’s pulling back and tugging Bucky to their bed.

“Why didn’t you sleep in our bed, sweetheart?” Steve asks as he sits at the end of their king size.

Bucky runs his metal hand over his wedding band, twisting it around his ring finger, “Because I just couldn’t. Not when you weren’t here. I can’t sleep without you, and especially not in our bed when you’re not there with me.” 

Steve smiles at him, pulling Bucky down, “You’re adorable, Bucky.”

Bucky gives him a look before crawling on top of him, resting his elbows on the duvet so he remains stable, “I’m not adorable.”

"No, you’re right. You’re just the cutest person alive.”

“I think you mean sexiest person alive,” Bucky mutters, bending to kiss Steve deeply. He runs his flesh arm over the fabric of Steve’s sweater, before resting his hand at the top of Steve’s neck, not squeezing - just leaves it resting there so Steve can feel the pressure of it - and turns Steve’s head to the side to give Bucky better access to sucking a bruise into his pulse point. 

Steve moans, “God, yes. You’re so fucking sexy, Bucky.”

Hearing his husband swear never fails to get Bucky’s blood boiling, and he grinds down on Steve to relieve some of the tension they’ve been building. 

Bucky leans back to admire the bruise on Steve’s neck, and smiles, “You’re so gorgeous, baby. Just looking at you gets me hot.” Steve blushes a deep red, making the bruise even darker on his neck. He writhes under Bucky’s stare. “I want to do so many things to you, Stevie.”

“What are you waiting for, Buck?” Steve asks, squirming slightly.

Bucky moves then, slipping his hands under Steve’s sweater and tugging it up and off as Steve throws it somewhere behind Bucky’s shoulder. Steve’s pale, muscular skin is on display now, and Bucky can’t get enough of it. 

He kisses Steve again, before working his way down, over Steve’s neck, and down to his nipples. He takes Steve’s left nipple in his mouth and sucks hard, loving the way Steve gasps sharply. Steve’s nipples have always been sensitive. 

He continues moaning as Bucky works the nub over, sucking on it and licking at it. He fingers the other one, gets Steve moaning high-pitched, broken off gasps for his efforts, and then moves over to give the same treatment to the right one.

Steve’s straining in his jeans, thrusting up to desperately get some friction. Once Bucky’s done with working over Steve’s nipples, he moves further down, licking, kissing, and biting at Steve’s muscular chest. He licks over and sucks at every ab, leaves a purple love bite on Steve’s pelvic bone, and then he’s finally at the button of Steve’s jeans.

Just as he’s about to undo it, Steve stops him, “Wait.”

Bucky looks up, takes in Steve’s swollen lips and lust-blown eyes, and whispers, “Yeah, Stevie?”

Steve’s breaths come quickly, and he pants, “I want to take your shirt off.”

Bucky can’t help but chuckle. Steve’s acting like this is their first time together, as if they haven’t been intimate with each other millions of times before this, but Bucky's more than happy to oblige. 

He sits up slightly from where he was crouching between Steve’s thighs, and mutters hotly, “You wanna take it off for me?”

Steve nods quickly, leaning up from where he’d been laying down, and runs his fingers softly on a small slither of skin revealed where Bucky’s cotton tee had folded up slightly. He moves to grasp the hem of the shirt, and smoothly nudges it up and strips it off, throwing it aside so he can take in Bucky’s toned chest, running his hands over the muscles of Bucky’s shoulders. 

Bucky leans in to kiss him again, can’t stop himself from kissing Steve’s addicting lips, but he’s pulling back again, “Is that better, baby?”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve whispers into Bucky’s mouth, giving him a quick peck before he’s lying back down again. 

Bucky resettles himself between Steve’s legs, lightly runs his fingers up Steve’s sides, just so he can get Steve shuddering, and whispers, “So beautiful.”

Steve shifts in pleasure at the praise, relaxing further into the duvet.

Bucky places his hands back on top of Steve’s jean clad things and works his hands up so he’s at the waistband, dipping his fingers in minutely. He moves his right hand to unbutton them while he mouths at the skin just above the waistband, kissing and nipping as he unzips them and slowly starts to work them down Steve’s hips. When he gets to Steve’s ankles, Steve helps him by kicking the jeans the rest of the way off, and they make a soft thunk as they fall to the ground.

Next comes Steve’s tight black briefs, and he peels those off slowly, kissing each inch of skin that’s revealed as he goes. Steve’s shaking below him, panting and trying to hold in his noises from where he’s got his his neck bared and head turned into the mattress. 

Bucky takes as moment to admire his husband, then. He’s so fucking _beautiful_ , laid out and exposed just for Bucky, hard and waiting for Bucky to make him feel good. 

Bucky can hardly stand waiting any longer.

His tongue drags up the length of Steve’s dick, tongue curling at the head before he sucks Steve down deep. Steve whimpers shakily, hands flying down to grasp Bucky’s short locks. God, Bucky’s missed this, feeling the thick weight of Steve against his tongue. Bucky’s fighting against his own arousal, feeling the need to grind down against the duvet. But he’s focused on Steve right now, on getting him to fall apart. 

Bucky sucks Steve for a couple more minutes, but he’s got a plan, and so he pulls back to lick at the head to get Steve panting, and then he’s continuing his exploration down, mouthing at Steve’s inner left thigh. The shift causes Steve to shake, and he releases hitching gasps that has Bucky twitching in his sweatpants.

When Bucky gets to Steve’s calf, Steve whimpers, “Bucky.” He doesn’t pause from his ministrations, just kisses Steve’s calf when Steve moans brokenly, “ _Please._ ”

That gets Bucky pausing a little, needing to take a deep breath so he can control himself. He continues on after a moment, working down the expanse of Steve’s leg, before he places a soft kiss to the bone of Steve’s ankle. 

Steve’s dick is red and leaking above him, and Bucky takes a second to admire it hungrily before he’s taking Steve’s left foot in his metal hand and placing it to rest on top of his shoulder, causing Steve's knee to bend, before he’s licking and biting his way up Steve’s right leg.

Steve’s hands grab back against Bucky’s hair again when Bucky gets back to Steve’s inner right thigh, and he’s trembling, panting as he looks down at Bucky with blown pupils.

His foot has slid past Bucky’s shoulder, and his calf rests against Bucky’s back as Bucky grabs Steve’s other leg and places it over his other shoulder, and Bucky can see his husband shaking with anticipation, trying desperately to calm his erratic breathing.

“You look so good right now, baby,” Bucky moans, and he can’t help it. Steve’s entire body is flushed red, and he’s got a nice sweat working for him, making his chest glisten. His eyes are glassy and his mouth is swollen, and Bucky can’t wait to get his mouth on him.

He places a kiss against the curve of Steve’s ass, and Steve gasps at the tender touch. Bucky leans in then, unable to wait any longer, and runs his tongue slowly up the line of Steve’s ass, all the way up until he mouths quickly at Steve’s balls. Bucky brings both hands up then, thumbs on either side of Steve’s hole, as he pulls his cheeks apart and just _goes for it._

Steve moans brokenly as soon as Bucky gets his mouth on him, hands tightening in Bucky’s hair. “Buck, oh my - _fuck_ , _Bucky_.” 

Bucky just keeps working his tongue over Steve’s hole, pushing in deeper and harder as Steve’s moans turn into hot little whimpers as he moves his hips down to get more. Bucky licks and sucks at him, sometimes pressing firm, and other times delicately licking at him with so much love Bucky’s aching with it. He’s desperately hard in his sweatpants, and he doesn’t realize that he’s grinding against the duvet until he moans into Steve’s ass, the vibrations causing Steve to leak more precome onto his already damp abdomen.

Bucky’s getting more and more worked up at Steve’s sounds, knows Steve won’t last much longer from the way he’s panting hotly - head thrown back in absolute pleasure. And, shit, Bucky could eat Steve out for _hours_. 

Steve continues to grind down into Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky’s practically begging for it. He’s moaning into Steve’s hole hotly, unable to hold back his sounds, and brings his metal thumb forward to hook his thumb into Steve, opening him that much _further_ , and Steve’s legs are shaking from their place on Bucky’s back. 

“Baby, I’m gonna - “ Steve starts, but he’s cut off when a moan rips itself from his throat brokenly when Bucky moves his thumb deeper.

Bucky's licking at him again, moving his thumb in and out rapidly, when Steve’s tensing, balls tightening, and gasping Bucky’s name as he spills all over himself. 

Bucky gives him a couple more licks, reluctant to pull himself away, but pulls back to stare hotly at Steve. Steve’s staring up at him, panting like he’s just run thirty miles, and almost loses it when he sees the level of debauchment Bucky’s in.

Bucky’s got spit all over his chin, mouth a cherry red, flush high on his cheeks - betraying exactly how much he’s worked up - and his eyes are almost all black, blown wide with lust as he stares down at his husband. 

“God, Steve. You’re so goddamn gorgeous, sweetheart.” Slowly, Steve’s legs slide back onto the mattress, and Bucky’s climbing back on top of him to kiss him breathless. “Fuck, you drive me crazy, Stevie.”

Steve kisses him deeply, cradling Bucky’s face in his hands, and pulls back to gaze lovingly in his eyes. “I want you in me, Buck. Please, baby. I can’t wait any longer.”

And Bucky can’t help but to groan at that, because Steve’s voice is _wrecked_ , and it’s doing things to Bucky’s heart. His arousal rages steadfast then, and he’s nodding against Steve’s lips.

“Shit, Stevie, I can’t wait to be in you, baby. God, I’ve missed you so much.” 

Bucky crawls between Steve’s thighs again, nudging Steve up towards the headboard so he can reach into the nearest nightstand to grab the lube. He may have eaten Steve out thoroughly, but they’re taking their time tonight, and Bucky wants to make sure Steve is all good and ready for him. 

He finds the lube quickly, and Steve may have just had a mind-blowing orgasm, but he’s already half-hard in anticipation, and Bucky’s dick twitches at the sight of it.

Bucky settles himself between Steve’s thighs, lubing up a finger on his flesh hand, and gently tracing it over Steve’s tight hole. He pushes in slowly, getting Steve used to the feeling. Steve just groans at the stretch, already grinding down against Bucky’s finger. 

“Please, baby,” Steve moans as Bucky pushes in and out frustratingly slow, never working up to a fast rhythm, just taking his time and making Steve feel every inch.

If his mouth isn’t on Steve’s, it’s whispering praise against his skin, heavy with love and endearments as he brings Steve to the edge with him, fighting not to rush this, not when he’s finally getting to touch Steve. 

He’s taking his time, promised Steve that they’d go slow, but he’s _this_ close to losing it - can’t keep it together when his husband is writhing underneath him, breathy and aching.

When Steve grinds down again, Bucky gives in, adding a second finger, but he continues to take his time. He doesn’t move on to his third finger until another achingly slow five minutes has passed, and Steve’s gasping at the stretch, grinding down hotly when Bucky brushes over his prostate. 

The fourth finger gets Steve moaning brokenly when he feels Bucky’s wedding ring against his ass, and he feels like he’s going to crawl right out of his skin if Bucky doesn’t get inside him soon.

A few seconds pass before Steve’s gasping, “Please, baby, I need you so bad. I wanna feel you inside me, Bucky, please.” His breath hitches when Bucky’s ring finger rubs over his prostate again. “Fuck,” it’s high-pitched, and dirty, and so _fucking hot_ , “want you so bad, sweetheart. _Please._ ”

“I’ve got you, baby,” Bucky says, pulling his fingers out slowly. Steve gasps at the empty feeling, but then Bucky’s resting between his legs again, holding himself on top of Steve as he rubs his metal thumb over Steve’s cheekbone.

Bucky leans back then, and Steve follows. He shucks himself of his sweatpants, throwing them aside with the rest of their clothes. Steve’s staring at him hungrily, eyes trailing over Bucky’s body until they settle on his red, throbbing dick. It twitches under Steve’s stare, and then Steve’s inching forward to take Bucky into his hand, stroking slowly as Bucky gasps.

Bucky leans forward then, pushing Steve’s hand away. He gently nudges against Steve’s shoulder to get him to lie back down, and Steve runs his hands up the sides of Bucky’s arms and around his shoulders to pull him in. Bucky presses his lips to Steve’s, and then he’s pushing forward, inching minutely into Steve.

Steve moans brokenly the second Bucky’s inside him. Bucky continues to slowly push into him, and by the time he’s fully sheathed inside Steve’s tight heat - _oh god, so fucking tight_ \- he’s clenching and unclenching his flesh hand in the sheets, struggling to hold himself back from coming. 

“Fuck,” he bites out, tense. “You feel so fucking good, Stevie. _Shit._ ”

It’s been so long, and Steve feels amazing wrapped around Bucky like this. His face is screwed up in pleasure, and his hands are digging into Bucky’s back. After Bucky thinks he’s got a hold of himself, he shifts slightly, to redistribute his weight, and the action has Steve groaning beneath him.

“Buck. . .” Steve says, breath hitching again. “Please. More.”

Bucky's hips stutter then, ever so slightly slipping a little further into his husband. Steve gasps at the movement, throwing his head back in pleasure. Bucky buries his head into Steve’s neck, and then he’s drawing his hips back and rocking into Steve. 

Bucky groans low in his throat at the tight heat around him, can’t help but to rasp out, “Fuck, Steve. You're amazing, sweetheart. God, I’ve missed you,” and his voice cracks at the wave of pleasure he feels.

His thrusts don’t speed up, but he’s got a steady rhythm going, pounding into Steve hard and deep as Steve’s whimpers. “I missed you too, baby. I can’t believe I could of lost you - never would of had this again - “

And Steve’s voice cracks, and Bucky knows he’s overcome with emotion. He’s raw and open, spread out before Bucky. But Bucky’s here, and he’s not going anywhere. Not if he can help it. “I’m right here, Stevie. Right where I want to be.” He kisses Steve then, and then they’re both moaning at a particular sensual thrust. “And I love you so much, Stevie. _Fuck._ ”

“I love you, too,” Steve whimpers and his voice is needy and raw, fingers running up to grasp Bucky’s hair again as Bucky starts to thrust deeper, _harder_ , needing to see Steve fall apart, aching for him to come.

He grabs Steve’s right thigh then, pushes it up and around his waist so he can thrust deeper, and his next thrust has him grazing up against Steve’s prostate. Steve moans brokenly and cracked, so gone with pleasure and his need to come. 

Bucky grinds in to him again, needing to see Steve lose it, and Steve’s trembling beneath him. The leg wrapped around Bucky’s waist is shaking, and Steve’s panting heavily through his moans. Bucky buries himself inside Steve deeply, whispers a hushed, “Want to see you come for me, baby,” into Steve’s neck, before he’s kissing Steve deeply, pounding into him with wanton.

Steve loses it then, spills between them hotly, shuddering with his release. Bucky grinds into him to help him through the aftershocks, but he can’t hold himself back any longer. “Steve,” Bucky groans. His voice is hoarse, filled with desire. “ _Steve_ ,” he moans again, and then his hips jerk forward, and he’s spilling deep into his husband as he rides the waves of his orgasm.

They’re both breathing heavily, and Steve pulls him down to his lips from where he’s got his arms looped around Bucky’s neck. They kiss softly for a moment, letting themselves calm down, before Bucky is carefully pulling out and then collapsing on top of Steve with a blissed out sigh.

Steve’s arms come around him, holding him close as they both take a moment to catch their breaths. Bucky hasn’t felt this deeply satisfied in a while, and he snuggles deeper into Steve’s chest. 

They lay together like that for a couple of minutes, before Bucky is pushing himself up and moving his body to the side. Steve grabs his leg, though, holding him in place, “Where are you off to?”

Bucky just smiles, “To get a washcloth to clean us up.”

Steve groans, “Come back. I liked feeling you on top of me.”

And who is Bucky to deny him?

He climbs back on top of Steve then, burying himself just below Steve’s chin. They’re both quiet for a moment, before Bucky speaks up, “That was amazing, Steve.”

Steve chuckles, “Yeah, it was. You drive me insane, Buck. God, your _mouth._ ”

“I’m insatiable,” Bucky responds, kissing Steve’s shoulder.

“Like I didn’t know _that_ one.” 

Bucky chuckles, flicking his husband lightly on the chest, “I’ve missed you so much, Steve. This entire waiting thing has been _awful._ ”

Steve’s quiet for a moment, before he whispers, “I’m sorry I was scared to touch you. I’ve missed you, too.”

Bucky leans his head up, propping it on Steve’s chest, “Don’t apologize for being scared, baby. I get it. I really do. I love you. And I’m not leaving you anytime soon.”

“I know,” Steve whispers, smiling widely. “I couldn’t get rid of you if I tried.” 

“No you couldn’t,” Bucky agrees, turning his head so he can listen to Steve’s heartbeat. It always calms him, hearing Steve’s steady heartbeat, and Bucky can feel it lulling him to sleep.

“I’d never try, though,” Steve says, and Bucky can hear the rumble of Steve’s voice in his chest. “I love you too much to ever let you leave me.”

“I’m not leaving,” Bucky replies, smiling, “And you’d never let me leave, punk.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Steve agrees, running his hand through Bucky’s hair.

“Steve?” 

“Mhm?” Steve hums, continuing to rub his hands on Bucky’s head.

“I love you, too.”

-

When Bucky wakes up, the sun is high in the sky. A quick look at their bedside clock tells him it’s just past nine o’clock, and he groans at the way his entire body feels exhausted.

He only got about four hours of sleep last night. Not that he’d gotten any more when Steve was gone, but he hadn’t partaken in any extremely athletic ventures in the middle of the night either. _Oh well_ , Bucky thinks. _It's a good exhaustion._

He looks to Steve’s side of the bed then, and is surprised to find it empty. He glances around the room, trying to see if he can spot Steve anywhere, but gets up slowly when he doesn’t. 

He finds his discarded sweatpants on the ground from where he’d tossed them during the early hours of the morning, tugs them on, and goes in search of Steve.

Bucky finds him sitting on the couch, talking quietly to his cell phone. Probably so that he doesn’t wake Bucky. 

Bucky leans down from the back of the couch, his arms looping around Steve’s neck as Bucky buries his face in the middle of Steve’s shoulder blades. He’s tired, and he wants Steve back in their bed. 

Steve relaxes into the warm embrace immediately, leaning back to let Bucky know Steve knows he’s there. Bucky stands there for a minute, breathing in Steve’s intoxicating scent from where he’s got his nose squished into Steve’s bare skin.

“Okay, Sam. I’ll see you then,” Steve says, and brings the cell phone down to his eye level so he can disconnect the call. One of Steve’s hands comes up to run lightly across Bucky’s metal arm.

“Good morning,” Steve mumbles, turning around in Bucky’s arms and moving to his knees, so he can face Bucky.

“Morning,” Bucky says back, hands coming to rest on Steve’s bare shoulders. “Sam was on the phone?”

Steve nods, “Yeah. He got Fury to extend the debrief until tomorrow, so now I don’t need to go to his office today.”

Bucky smiles, “Good. Because I want you back in our bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve replies, leaning forward and giving Bucky a soft press of his lips. 

When Steve pulls back, Bucky asks, “What was the mission, anyway?”

“That’s classified,” Steve mumbles against Bucky’s lips, giving him another peck. He contradicts himself, though, and says, “We had to track an Arabic arms dealer who was holding a SHIELD operative hostage. Clint and Nat were busy working a job down in Cabo San Lucas, and Sam and I were the only ones available.”

“If you got deployed to Egypt, how’d you end up in Istanbul?”

“Get that from the tracker?” Steve asks, kissing Bucky’s jaw when Bucky just nods. “He flew there when he caught wind of Sam and I tracking him. We finally apprehended him in Istanbul, but the SHIELD agent was being held in Moscow.”

“You were in Russia?”

“Yes,” Steve confirms, running his thumb across Bucky’s clavicle. 

“Why did it take so long?”

“It took us a while to find him,” Steve answers simply.

Bucky’s silent for a second, reflecting. “I don’t want you to be deployed without me again.”

Steve smiles a dazzlingly smile at him, “That’s what I told Fury. We work better together than we do apart.”

Bucky nods, kissing Steve’s forehead. “I’m sorry I’m a control freak.”

“You developed that from years of not being in control, Buck. It doesn’t bother me.”

Bucky shrugs, “It would to some people."

“Well, I married you, flaws and all. And I love you for who you are - even if you _are_ a control freak.” 

Bucky chuckles, “Yeah? Well you’re stubborn as all hell. But I love you anyway, too.”

Steve gives him another winning smile, leaning in and kissing Bucky deeply. They stay in each other’s arms for a moment, before Bucky pulls back, whispering against Steve’s lips, “Come back to bed, baby.”

And how could Steve say no?

-

Later, after they've both woken up again, Bucky _finally_ convinces Steve to shower with him. Steve holds him up against the wall and makes love to him, just like on their wedding night.

It’s not as needy and desperate as their wedding night had been, or even as quick and fast.

But it’s still one of Bucky’s favorite showers, and he’s sore and aching by the time Steve’s done with him.

And he walks around their apartment with a limp for the rest of the day, and every time Steve sees him, he gets that heated look in his eye.

 _So worth it,_ Bucky thinks, and tackles Steve to the ground. 

**Author's Note:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
